Castlevania: The Claws Of Fate
by Kit-Karamak
Summary: July 2044, a Belmont descendant related to Cornell is thrust into The Castle. Review to choose between two Belmonts to go with Julius into Hell for Chapter 18. ENORMOUS cast of characters from the series' history. Good and evil and some in between. Updated September 2 2013.
1. Prologue

Preface  
Monday, July 18th, 2044 Anno Domini  
About 3:10 pm

**Adrian F. Tepes** lowered to one knee before the massive cross mounted on the wall. He genuflected with his right hand then passed the front row of pews and stopped in front of a confessional booth. The dhamphir opened the slatted wooden door and stepped into the small booth, facing a dark screened section. He lowered to a cushioned kneeling bar and placed his palms together. With a measure of purpose in his tone, he recited, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned and am about to sin again; it has been nine years since my last confession," in plain English. His mind still raced from the intensity of his last nightmare.

"Alucard! Indeed it _has_ been a while." The priest's tone brought a faint smile to the lips of the eternal youth. The priest continued, adding, "Your charade as Genya Arikado still holds up after using it for over a decade? Surly the Agency will catch on, soon, my son." The pastor's tone hinted at sarcasm.

The dhamphir smirked at first but the sharp expression melted into a relaxed grin. He drew in a long, slow breath then face-faulted. "I've contemplated faking the death of Genya Arikado," said Alucard with a soft sigh. He closed his eyes and licked his lips with apprehension. "I had a disturbing dream last night, Father. In it, I entered the citadel of Dracula and, somehow, was forced to _become_ him. I couldn't wake up from the dream. At least not until it reached its conclusion. This…_vision_; it worried me – I'm even considering the possibility of returning to Torpor."

"Alucard, my boy," said the priest, "The only sin you've been guilty of in the past decade has been that of pride. If _'Genya_' is to meet an untimely death, then that's the way it must be. Do you think that sleeping is …_wise_ with Julius Belmont growing old? Wouldn't you at least consider staying awake until the next member of the Morris, Graves or Belmont clan is able to come along and take the reigns?"

"Father," Alucard lowered his gaze to his folded hands. "Before my dream, I went to bed feeling ill. You know me fairly well, Padre; I may not confess my sins very often but I do visit from time to time for news and information – I don't get 'sick'. But this… I felt something in my gut and, whatever I felt, it scared me. You're correct, Father: My sin is that of pride. But it _is_ Twenty Forty-Four in the year of our Lord and, while nothing has changed for a very long time, I _do_ feel an intense _something_ in the winds. It is as if a revolution is on the horizon. I feel a powerful rage building in my heart and I have struggled to stifle it. I've felt judgmental in the last seventy-two hours. I sense that I may taste blood again by the end of the month, perhaps even by the end of the week."

The priest took a deep breath then said, "God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His Son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – Amen." He gestured in the sign of the cross with the backside of his hand brushing against the screen between them. "Your sins are absolved, my boy. Your soul is healed, Alucard. Your penance and reconciliation restores you, as it was stated in the book of James chapter five, verse sixteen. May you go with God …and stay out of trouble."

"Let's be honest, Father; I'll be heading into the heart of trouble should my gut feeling prove to be correct." Alucard lifted from the kneeling bar and moved back into a small cushioned chair, facing the screen portion of the booth. He licked his lips again then said, "I can feel something odd but I'm not sure what it is. I wish to have the Church's permission to personally investigate later in the week. I'd need a driver and a decent limousine so I can head out to Romania and ensure that there is nothing left of that castle but ruins and a crumbling foundation."

"I will grant you permission," said the pastor. "I'm afraid we're spread thin at the moment. Miss Belnades is in Russia with her betrothed. I've not had contact with Julius in quite some time, but if the feeling in your heart is correct, you should have no problems finding him on location. Go downstairs and take what weapons you need; report to your Japanese Agency and arrange for a flight to Bucharest. Your limo and driver will be waiting at the Bucharest Airport upon your arrival. Ship the weapons you've chosen to the smallest Church in the city, so as to stay under the radar. When you arrive, go and pick them up. You know what to do from there."

"Thank you, Father." Alucard opened the slatted wooden door, crossed the church and approached the large alter beneath the massive cross on the back wall. He turned to a statue of Mary and cupped her cheek with his right hand. He nearly shuttered at the feeling of her smooth marble cheek against his palm. His thumb slid beneath her eye as if wiping away her tears. The fingerprint sensor in her cheek scanned his thumbprint and the Alter slid forward, revealing a staircase. He moved over to the entrance in the floor and descended the aging concrete stairs.

A table sat at the end of a simple stone room, the surface was constructed of dark basalt. Various lethal weapons made of fine silver, platinum and bejeweled with dense diamonds laid in wait. He paused, glaring at a cross-shaped short sword with a diamond-tipped blade. The sight of it brought back an intense image from his dream.

_Alucard stood before a horde of undead bodies; they surrounded him on all sides. Beyond, his father stood tall, glaring at him. He clinched his jaw and drew a short sword with a glistening diamond at the tip. He cut his gaze to the left then panned it to the right, watching the zombie legion sluggishly close in around him. They moved as if only to close in their ranks, tightening the rotted halo of bodies that encircled him. _

_His father's haunting voice filled his ears. "It is futile to fight your own blood to the death knowing how closely we are tied together." Dracula received no response and so he added, "You would fight all the undead corpses at my disposal, my foolishly wayward son? It would last forever; why would you wage a never-ending battle of attrition?" _

_Alucard tightened his fist around the handle of the cross-shaped weapon. The zombie corpses, covered with aging, brittle armor, moved closer. Dracula's soft chortling frustrated him to no end. His father then said, "Were you to destroy them all, you would be too tired to contend with me, my boy. Why, though, Adrian? Even Radu was never this errant; blood is blood." _

_"Serving you feels taboo." He glanced to the left and right, watching the zombies grow closer. His pallid knuckles turned to a pure shade of white with the intensity of his grip around the weapon's handle. _

_"It is one of His divine Commandments, Adrian. Honor thy mother and thy father." _

_Alucard gritted his teeth for a moment. "I _am_ honoring my mother. She wished for you to become humbled and I will humble you, no matter what it takes." _

_Dracula smirked at his son. "You will **become** me, no matter what it takes." _

_Alucard's eyes widened. He threw his arms outwards and shouted, "Never!" An intense, esoteric wave of unadulterated energy rushed from his body. The shockwave decimated the bodies of every reanimated corpse in attendance. Their torsos were separated from the hips and launched by the glowing force. In the blink of an eye, every surrounding foe became eviscerated from the waist up. An army of bloody pelvic bones, perched upon two quavering legs, dropped to the floor. The congealed gore did little to sully the glowing gold floor. He lifted his eyes back to those of his father and both of them offered a sly smirk to the other. "Your reign is over, father. You should be dead but if it takes ME to damn you the rest of the way to hell, then that is the way it must be!" _

_"You fool, I am a figment of your imagination," said Dracula with a scoff. "I'm here to tell you what must come to pass in person. I will return, Adrian. Not my body or even my soul. As you know, I have already been reborn. However, the essence of my ways will return to this land and there is nothing you can do to stop it. I wish for my presence to live on with my son but should you resist such power, there are already other loyal persons in place who will carry out my legacy. But _you _are quite powerful, Adrian. I beg of you; go and assume your rightful place as Lord of my land. Carry out my will and cleanse the world upon blades of metal. Drain them all and let this world become awash in a layer of scarlet." _

_"YOU are the fool," said Alucard, sinking to his left knee. He'd released all of his energy to wipe out the zombie horde and now struggled with the incredible sensation of feeling drained. "I will go there to _stop_ you, not to join you." _

_Dracula lifted his right hand. In his palm, he held a glowing clear stone. "Fair enough. When you arrive, I will give you the one thing I've willed to you. Come, collect your inheritance." He tossed the glistening, glassy object across the room. _

_Alucard caught the glowing stone in his left palm. His eyes widened and the air around him felt hot – his body temperature turned to ice. A wave of passionate hatred filled his heart. His pupils shrank and his heart wrenched in his ribcage. His back arched and he groaned at the sensation of pleasure and power that filled his body against his will. He wanted to fight it but it couldn't be helped. His jaw dropped and his fangs lengthened as a reflective response to the new instincts that replaced his old ones. _

_"Incredible, isn't it?" Dracula smiled. He approached his son and placed his hands upon Alucard's shoulders. He took one step further and the two began to physically merge into one entity. _

Alucard gasped and opened his eyes. A voice came from behind. "Even after centuries of immortality, your instincts are still so very human. You gasp for air like any flesh and blood mortal." The priest from the confessional box placed a palm on the dhamphir's shoulder, coming alongside of him. He turned to the kneeling warrior and used his dust-covered thumb to make the mark of a cross upon Adrian's forehead. "Now stand, Alucard. It was just a dream – pray for God's strength to wield the power of freewill. With His guiding light, you will make a positive footprint in the sands of fate."

Adrian rose to his feet and pushed his fingers back through the peppered locks of his silky, long hair. "It's… changing back to silver – the dye is fading. I should re-dye my hair before I travel." His attempt of changing the subject wasn't as easy as he intended. He frowned thoughtfully and placed his hand on the Priest's steady shoulder. "You're quite the rock to cling to, Father. I... experienced some sort of blackout; I relived a small segment from my dream when I saw a certain weapon on the table. I was holding that very one in my nightmare. I can only pray that it isn't a prophetic vision of my future."

"God gives us the power to stand on our own feet. Pray for His strength and take that weapon to Romania. Dracula is dead. If you saw him in your dream, it's because he's a metaphor. He cannot merge with you if he does not exist."

Alucard blinked in confusion. "…How? How did you know what I saw?"

"You spoke in Latin, as if in a trance. You narrated the entire dream, Alucard. I speak fluent Latin and heard your monotone chanting because you didn't close the Alter entrance. I came to see what you were talking about."

"My apologies," said the dhamphir with a frown. He was all business again. He snatched the short sword from the table and secured the sheath to his belt. He lifted a claymore from the other end of the table and twirled it in his hands by the handle. The heavy sword, two meters in length, made a deep groaning sound as it swirled through the air backed by the raw power in Alucard's hand. He picked up a six-foot holster-like object from the table and shouldered the case then placed the blade into its sheath with a satisfying click. "In my dream, while I never saw the Romanian fields with my own eyes, I could smell the air of my birthplace. I could just… _feel_ that I was in Romania. But what if I'm wrong? What if the castle appears elsewhere and I'm…"

"Shh," the priest interrupted. He placed his left hand on Alucard's shoulder. "Be at peace, my son. Follow your instincts. If Genya Arikado is to meet his death this week, please come and visit me one more time before you disappear."

"Should I remain awake," Alucard began slowly, "Perhaps it would be the most beneficial for you to relocate. I need a trustworthy man of faith to assist me from time to time. Starting with new contacts makes things difficult."

"That could be arranged," said the priest. "Go with God. Please come back and see me before you leave for your trip."

"You know I will, Father. You always seem to have information for me at the last minute."

"See you in a few days, then," said the Priest with a knowing smile.

* * *

Forty-eight hours later… Wednesday, July 18th 2044 

Genya Arikado opened a large oak door leading into the Church. Clad in a custom tailored business suit and freshly dyed black hair, he stepped into the cathedral and walked down the aisle. An acrid, pungent scent filled his nose and his left hand tightened around the leather-wrapped handle of his briefcase. He quickened his pace, heading up to the front pew. He inhaled deeply through his nose, tracking the scent of blood to the back entrance. He cut his gaze towards the hallway adjacent to the organ and he walked towards it. He paused at the mouth of the hallway and glanced from the organ on his right to the tabernacle on his left. The scent of blood came from ahead.

He stepped into the hall, heading towards the rectory entrance at the opposite end. He quickened his pace and shouldered the door open at the end of the hall. He froze in his tracks, staring at men and women gathered in the lobby. A group of Japanese police officers filled the area. They all glanced up at his noisy entrance but his eyes cut through those in attendance and landed upon a body bag on the floor at the center of the room.

"Where is Father Belmondo?"

"Were you a friend of his?" asked one of the investigators. The way they referred to the priest in the past tense told the ageless man everything. It all fell into place. Someone found out about the dhamphir's mortal contact and sought to kill the man. Alucard nodded in response to their question.

The youthful looking Inspector approached, offering Genya a glance at his three-point badge. He was merely a junior officer. "It looks as though there was quite an intense battle fought in this church, sometime before sunrise. The only part that remained untouched was the cathedral. It's as though his attackers either could not or would not enter it. This man died defending other priests. Several were killed in the attack but according to the survivors, he stepped in and battled the attackers. Once they overwhelmed him, they retreated."

"Teiketsu!" shouted the senior officer. He approached the younger investigator and said, "You don't even know who this man is and you're telling him everything _we_ already know. Take some control in your investigation – be the one asking questions, not the one giving answers."

The younger officer opened his mouth to rebut but Alucard silenced him with a gentle touch upon his shoulder. The dhamphir shook his head then said, "Thank you Mister …Teiketsu, was it? Yes, he was a friend of mine and it's completely in his character to pick up a weapon and protect others. He was growing old, though. Unfortunately, Father Belmondo was not properly equipped to handle attackers of that caliber. I have no other information to provide. But please, answer me this… what was the method of death?"

The senior officer approached Alucard and put his hands on his hips. The Inspector used his thumb to flash his seven-pointed star-shaped badge which rested on his belt. The head investigator then narrowed his gaze. In reply, Alucard tossed a lock of his dark hair with a flip of his right wrist. His effeminate face contorted to offer a thin smirk to the cop. An awkward moment of silence came to pass. Keeping up with his 'Genya' persona, the dhamphir fished a wallet from his dress slacks and flipped it open. The senior officer leaned in, reading the identification card and the Japanese Government badge.

"I… I apologize, Mister Arikado. I didn't know you were here on behalf of the Japanese Government. Survivors say this incident happened a little before two in the morning." The senior officer led Alucard back to the body bag and knelt down besides it. "The witnesses say that he was defeated by pale, unarmed men who overwhelmed him. But judging by the appearance of the injuries that were sustained, it looks as though he was ravaged by a pack of animals. There are fang marks on his neck, arms, shoulders and even one on his left outer thigh. Notably, almost every wound that Father Belmondo sustained was over a pressure point or a vital…"

Alucard gestured the man to silence with his hand. "You're referring to his jugular, his carotid and all along his left wrist, correct?"

"Yes, Mister Arikado. That is correct."

"Don't give these details to the press," said Alucard with a frown. "If they want information, direct them to the Cardinal. He'll know how to handle the press. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I must my leave of you all. I will return to pay my respects at a later time." He immediately turned to the nearest exit door and stormed through the right rear fire escape of the rectory. The police cruisers on scene were parked behind the building and he waded through them to the main road. He removed his cellular telephone and dialed the second number on his speed dial.

After a moment, a familiar female voice came from the speaker. "Yoko," he said in a soft, downtrodden voice, "It's Genya. Father Belmondo was murdered in his rectory. …I'm on location, east of Tokyo." He paused then said, "I understand. I'm heading to Romania. I have this strange feeling that I'll find answers there." He listened then said, "There is no need to leave Moscow at this time. If the Castle had already made some sort of random appearance, it would be in the paper by now. Just the same, I'm going there to make sure the ruins of Poinari are still silent. But that's just it – I had a dream and it had nothing to do with the castle on the Argus River. I'd actually like to investigate _central_ Wallachia. I'll call you if I find out anything." He paused again then said, "Very well." Without a word further, he shut the cellular phone and put it into his pocket.

* * *

**The Claws of Fate**

By

Kit Karamak  
Aka  
Ken Weaver Junior

* * *

A story in the Universe of CastleVania

Disclaimer: Don't sell or redistribute this story for financial gain. Castlevania and its trademarked characters are property of Konami. This story is written without express permission by Konami and may not be redistributed for profit. This story is written for entertainment purposes only. Please feel free to post this story anywhere you like, so long as the entire disclaimer and the author's name remains with it. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Synopsis:  
Two unsuspecting mortals find an aging castle and wonder inside together. Meanwhile, a young man named _Justus_ ' _Bell_' learns that he is part werewolf. With the help of Julius Belmont he learns what it is to be a natural-born predator. A trip to Romania to cure his 'disease' turns deadly with an out-of-place appearance of Dracula's original castle, minus The Count. Julius, Alucard and other returning cast members must face the fact that their abilities are not enough to fight the Castle's new caretaker. They have no choice but to put their faith into the confused, young werewolf – a descendant of Cornell.

* * *

_A few miles east of Tokyo, in the middle of the night, an aging priest picked up a weapon with the intent to protect ordained men of the cloth.  
…**Meanwhile**, several thousand miles to the west, at that very moment… _

Romania… 7:55 pm (6 hours behind Japan)

Tuesday, July 17th 2044 A.D.

Prologue:

**The** **Carpathian Mountains** were capped in golden hues offset by the sun-swept crimson skyline beyond them. A subtle gale touched the Romanian fields which stretched through the belly of the nation. The valley fell into shadow as tender rays of evening sunlight disappeared behind the Carpathian range.

A young girl in her mid teens ventured through this barren field of high grass. She clung to her knapsack, ever-weary of the attention that contraband could bring... The illegal substance would fetch good money but she knew this to be a dangerous routine. The girl glanced over her shoulder at the mountain range in the distance and frowned thoughtfully.

A polite breeze sifted through her elegant ebony locks. The gale toyed with her raven tendrils – her hair was gently captured; cascading outwards, dancing on a breath of wind like a ballerina to a note of song. The young woman lowered her gaze, dipping hazel oculars from the beautifully jagged horizon. Without warning, the tranquility became shattered by the sharp rustling sound of someone passing through the area nearby.

The youthful teenage woman whirled about, nervous from her illegal cargo. The parcel could easily attract both Interpol or country-side bandits who sought to pirate free supplies from travelers. The fact that she didn't drive kept her below the radar of most law enforcement but it only made her job that much more dangerous. As she pivoted, her gaze fell upon a scruffy old man.

The man sported a dirty tie and a second hand suit blazer. He looked about as dingy as one could imagine for a vagabond and she immediately reached her right hand into a pouch that rested upon her hip. "What do you want?" she demanded, tightening her palm against the reassuring feel of cool metal within the pocket-like holster.

"Maybe I'm just passing through, lady," said the man. His wiry hair, a smorgasbord collection upon his brow, added to his disheveled visage. "Or maybe I'm surprised a pretty little thing like you is walking through the fields of southern Romania alone."

"And what if I am?" she inquired with a sharp tone. Her fingers snaked around the handle of a pistol, trying to keep her wits about herself. "Are you here to give me trouble?"

His throaty voice gave her chills. He was the cliché, typical highway bandit. She could tell, almost immediately, that this man wanted nothing more than her belongings and possibly a quick romp in the grass. "That depends on what you have in your knapsack and what you have in your pocket." His gruff reply ended on the sour sound of phlegm; he cleared his throat then licked his lips in an unnerving manner.

"Stay away from me; go on about your business," said the girl. The man began to advance on her. She kept her position but used her thumb to flip off the safety on her weapon. Still the man continued to approach. His arms began to extend, reaching for her.

She didn't have time to think her action through. The world slowed to a crawl of time but nothing felt different. The grass swayed, the sun continued to sink into the western skyline and the wind still toyed with those silky onyx strands of her hair. But just as quick and with the instinctive grace of a true highway courier, she drew her pistol.

His hands enveloped her shoulders, drawing close until she could feel the callous flesh against her throat. Instantly, the world came to a stop. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack, loosely starting to form an 'O' with his thin, chapped lips. His grip at her collarbone began to tighten for a moment, only to loosen seconds later.

That slow-crawling instant would be this man's last. The gun offered slight kickback in her palm. The blast erupted from the barrel, slicing through his lower torso. Blood splattered the grass directly behind him, coating the waist-high blades in a scarlet frosting. The man's legs began to grow weak and his weight shifted.

Buckling at the knees, the man crumbled to the earth, devoured by the high grass that surrounded them. His arms flailed into the air, his body swallowed by the forest of emerald that stretched for miles in every direction. The last vestiges of his dying form disappeared from her eyes and, while animation resumed in the world around them, all motion ceased in his dying form. She had delivered a fatal gunshot a mere instant. '_It was for self defense_,' she thought to herself. Her hands shook from adrenaline.

The girl lowered her weapon. She gawked in silence at the rusty frosting, speckled over a blanket of rustling jade. In that moment, she felt thankful for the field of high grass. It helped to ease the awkward sensation of what her weapon had achieved by hiding the body within its thick veil. A hand reached from the blades of grass for but a moment only to sink back into the depths. He let out a muffled groan then sighed his last breath.

The vagabond was dead.

With quivering hands, the girl replaced her pistol, returning the safety to its primary position. It took only one bullet to end his life. However, she now felt safe having put the man out of his misery. Barely any sensation of guilt followed. '_I'm an experienced traveler,'_ she told herself and, due to her moral standards, she felt no pang of sadness over the demonstration. In that moment, she had played the part of God, taking away life with only the simple motion of her right index finger. A part of her, deep down inside, began to wonder how long she could remain stoic… of _course_ his death bothered her to some degree!

She immediately decided to set up her night camp only twenty feet upwind of the body. If anything, it would be stumbled across by highway bandits and they would leave her alone. With such a threat to warn other offenders, she felt safe having the body nearby; part of her wondered if it would make sense to put him up on a stake as a sign of admonition. Either way, if she was lucky, the scent of blood would attract a small animal for her dinner, like a coyote.

Regardless of her shortage of victuals, she didn't dare search his body for supplies. Part of her didn't want to see the body that represented a life she'd taken. Instead, she busied herself with clearing out a spot of grass to put up a small tent. She used a piece of wood, procured from her earlier pass through the forest, to make a campfire. Vying against her heart to rid herself of the guilt, she wanted to keep herself busy to help forget what she'd done. Having set up her tent, she decided next to wash her face with some of the water she kept in bottles in her bag.

Normally circumspect, the girl found herself glancing at her gun from time to time, while going through her gear. She glanced back to the high grass that still dripped with crimson from the normally-emerald tips. A shutter raked its way up her spine but it helped to confirm one thing… The girl was alone in this valley.

She undressed herself, changing into clean sweat pants and a flannel shirt. The girl put her thick dark hair up into a ponytail then set up the campfire. It took a few moments to clear out some of the grass so that the fire had space. Last of all, she set up her tent and settled in for the night. The wind picked up again, causing the grass to rustle noisily.

The girl lay there for a bit, unable to sleep. Her eyes flitted about the inside of the canvas dwelling for several moments before she decided to sit up again. Something compelled her to open the front of the tent. Drawing the zipper up its track, the flaps parted and she stuck her head out into the wind. A man stood directly in front of the tent; he had a hole in his torso, clean through to the other side.

Her jaw dropped wide open, gazing up at the man she killed earlier. His hazy eyes were blank gray hues; maggots were stuck to the white orbs and frothy ooze dribbled from his lower lip. The man sucked in breath causing a strange noise to come from his throat. It sounded like a groan or grunt and his sunken eyes flitted as if trying to blink. Flies buzzed around the hole in his torso and crawled from out of his mouth which hung agape. His state of health didn't seem to be of concern to any but her. Only one word could be used to describe him. '_Zombie?_' she asked herself in shock.

The girl reached for her bag again. She drew the pistol back out and pointed it at him. A strange panic gripped her and, out of vertigo, she pulled the trigger again. A fresh wound stained his shirt and dirty coat where his heart should have been. And yet, the body only shuttered under the brunt stopping force of the bullet. Her eyes widened and her pupils dilated. She raised the weapon higher and pulled the trigger again.

The man's filthy visage became further sullied with a nauseating wound beneath his left eye. Coagulated blood splattered from the gunshot, sitting upon the hole in his face as if it were scarlet gelatin. His head jerked to the side but he continued his approach. She quickly moved to the back of the tent but the animated corpse continued forward, trouncing the canvas structure. The plastic polls cracked under the stress of his forward march until the top ripped clear open.

She lifted the pistol and, this time, emptied the revolver into the man's face but he didn't stop. His cheeks, covered in congealed red slime, contorted to allow his jaw to open. He displayed his blackened teeth to her and hissed in a hoarse sort of way. Her breathing intensified, panting furiously. He dropped to his knees directly before her and reached his arm out, grasping at her shirt and ripping the flannel pocket over her breast. Her eyes glanced down at his gnarled hand, where the skin had peeled back to reveal longer fingernails – something that usually took several days occur…

Suddenly, the man pushed his fingers into her ribcage, cracking the first two ribs. His fingers slid through her pallid flesh, closing his fingertips around her intestines. Her jaw dropped again, trying to gasp in pain at the sensation of ice that slid between her ribs followed by an intense fire in her belly. Her head lulled back, gazing straight up into the air, trying not to look at the grisly mosaic of blood in her lap.

That's when her eyes perceived something she'd never seen before… The tent appeared to be in the shadow of a large castle. The massive stone columns stretched into the heavens directly above her. It blurred from her vision; she lowered her head one last time. The fuzzy vision before her seemed impossible: A dead man clamped his jaw over the crimson entrails that emanated from her body. Her form slumped back…. She could feel death claiming her demure form…

* * *

**Surfacing from slumber, her soft pallid lips parted, asking, "Soma Cruz, Julius Belmont, Simon Belmont**; who?" Who, indeed… _who_ were these people? Why did she wake up with their names on her tongue? She sat up in her tent, greeted by the song of birds. Her hand went to her stomach, pushing up the fabric of her shirt. Her smooth fingertips moved across her taut, washboard belly. She traced her nails down over her naval to search for the wound she remembered sustaining. Her flawless skin yielded no such markings. She remained unscathed; the tent was intact. 

She blinked her eyes several times… '_Was it a dream?_' she wondered. She decided she wanted to make sure the body was still in the grass. She unzipped her tent and peered outside. The girl gasped, looking up at a massive structure – the one from her recent nightmare.

It didn't matter; those names had no bearing on anything as far as _she_ was concerned. She'd never heard the names before and it just didn't matter. What _did_ matter was the fact a castle suddenly manifested outside of her tent over night. The cold bricks apparently appeared from thin air during the course of the night and now the hollow shell of a dank structure sat here as if it had been through _ages_ of disuse. For now the body became the last thing on her mind.

Molly Fields lifted her gaze at the massive structure. '_That was **not **__there last night,_' she thought to herself, shaking her head with disbelief. The cold gray bricks reflected in those soft hazel eyes which bore into the stoic structure, uncomprehendingly. There were five 'W' questions for every situation: Who, What, When, Where and, of course, Why? But at this moment, none of them came to her mind. Only one inquiry desired to be sated. _How_?

_How _could this structure find its way here over night? _How _did it appear? _How _could it seem so ancient, when it only arrived in the last day? And yet she only managed to verbalize it in a simplistic, four word question. "_How _did this happen?" she pondered aloud. Her own voice surprised her, eliciting a gasp to follow the silence-breaking outburst. She wasn't wearing the flannel shirt or the sweat pants she dreamt that she'd changed into. No, instead, she still wore her field clothes; her gun still had eight rounds in the revolving chamber. Silence had returned only for her to vocalize her inquiry again, shouting, "HOW IN GOD'S NAME DID THIS HAPPEN?"

Not only was morning's silence shattered by the cacophony of her voice but the normally loquacious girl had nothing beyond those few words to offer. Her garish nature was subdued by shock and incomprehension. Her eyes fought to tear themselves from this behemoth erection of stone. She blinked, testing to see if the castle would dissipate with the reopening of her eyes. There was no such luck.

Finally, she glanced down into her bag; it rested upon her hip, suspended from a strap over her shoulder. A gun was nestled within the knapsack which resembled a World War II medical rucksack. A faded white circle covered the bag with the slight vestiges of a once-scarlet cross gracing the front. Ironically, the year was 2044, one hundred years after the Second World War.

The German-born English-raised girl stood before the magnificent structure, still in total awe. Her heart beat hard and yet her curiosity made her different from most of her female friends back in town; none of which were present. She _had_ to know _more_ about this place and wanted to see the inside for some strange reason; her friends would have simply turned and run.

Molly glanced back down at the old medic-style mailbag. The gun was loaded and she felt secure with it nearby. It was a simple forty-five caliber revolver. Snuggly pressed against the weapon was a cellular telephone and a portable video game system. Beneath the essentials, there was a bag of potato chips and a sports drink in a synthetic-plastic bottle. Her eyes were finally torn from the massive estate only so that she could begin scouting the grounds. She returned to her tent and retrieved her machete used for cutting tall grass. Molly attached the sheath to her belt then closed the front flap of the tent and stretched.

The homeless Molly Fields had crossed this sun-shine valley well over fifty times in the last month. She'd never seen this building before and the fact that it now existed served to perpetuate an intense desire to learn of this grand-manor shelter. Not only that, there was no sign of recent maintenance and yet there was _no sign_ of _graffiti_. That, alone, was enough of a reason to feel that something was _odd_ about this situation.

Any normal person could simply _assume _that this structure _shouldn't _exist here, then come to the conclusion that they must _not _have their bearings. But even still, the fact that this building looked to be dreadfully abandoned and yet not one single tag marking? It boggled her mind.

The place was massive. It took her nearly half of an hour to walk only a fraction of the perimeter before happening across a massive wooden door. The rotting wood was inlaid with incredibly well crafted iron beams each etched with a fancy looking design. It was master craftsman's work from someone who _knew _how to artistically cast iron. However… it was painfully obvious that the craftsman in question had made this door well over a century ago.

Her eyes flitted about, tracing the metal work overtop the rotted wooden door until they stopped on a plate near the bottom hinge. "Circa 1477 A.D.," was stenciled deeply into the plaque; although it seemed fairly worn from age, the date was still easily legible.

A voice came from behind and Molly's ears perked up... "He was a Christian Knight who crusaded against the westward Islamic expansion into Europe," said a gentleman. It startled Molly so deeply that she needed a moment of repose to steal back her breath. Molly's head turned quickly, those soft hazel orbs raking over the visage of an aging man whose eyes were the softest, kindest blue. Wiry silver strands crowned his head with a shiny bald spot over the top which extended down to his forehead. A pair of reading glasses sat perched above his brows. By contrast, his hands looked smooth to the touch and didn't appear wrinkled or frail in any way.

Finally, her voice returned. "Who?"

"The Voivode of Wallachia, of course," said the man in a tone as soft as his eyes. "This is all that remains of him. He lived from 1431 to 1476; just a few years before Christopher Columbus discovered what is now known to be… modern-day America."

"You certainly know a lot," Molly mused thoughtfully. "I've been through this area at least four-dozen times and I've never seen this castle. We're still in Romania, right?" Her Romanian accent lacked the luster of a polished native speaker but she still enunciated her words well enough to be understood.

"He was known as Kazikli Bey, in the Turkish Balkans," said the older man, pausing to glance up the side of the large front wall. He then added, "It means 'Mister Impaler' or as it would mean, back then when 'Bey' was a title, "Impaler _Prince_."

"Who made him a prince?" Molly wondered aloud.

"I suppose the Holy Roman Emperor granted him the title," said the man. "This castle has been here since the mid 1400's. Some say that it was expanded on after he supposedly died in 1476, at the age of forty-five."

"I'm Molly Fields," she replied, glancing back down at the plate on the door, reading '1477 A.D.' again. "And you are?"

"James Johnson is my name," he explained with an airy sort of delight. "I'm a hobbyist historian, really. Did you know that Vlad Tepes began his rule at the age of seventeen? He was a keen young man and became a Christian Crusader who had strange habits and often enjoyed a garden stroll through a courtyard filled with ivy-covered six-foot spikes. It was upon these spikes that he had people impaled. It was rumored that the spikes weren't enough to satisfy his lust for blood letting and so, before long, he bared his teeth to do the job."

"Ugh, personal preference, I take it?" she muttered softly. "So he bit people? Or was he some sort of cannibal?"

"No, his two front incisors were longer than the rest of his teeth. Like fangs," said James. "I'm sure you've heard of DRACULA. This man, Vlad the Third, was the very Dracula from which every vampire story book was fashioned. His name came from his father, whose surname was "Dracul", given to him by the Roman Empire. There was something strange about the title, _The_ _Order of the Dragon_, leading all the way back to the young Germanic Tribes, hundreds of years prior but… That is all simple speculation and fairy-tale rumor by now. But this man _is_ the story-book Dracula that winds up in the movies and horror books."

"Did he really impale people on spikes in his garden?" Molly asked, placing her hands upon the large metallic handle and pulling. The door didn't budge. The wood grunted softly and yet the hinges were beyond mobility any longer. "I want to see these spikes; I don't believe this hype any more than I believe in Good, Evil, God and all that stuff."

Johnson shrugged but kept a genteel smile. "And surly, were you to say that to Vlad the Third, back in his day," James mused, tapping his chin furtively, "He would have run you through without a second thought. He considered Muslims to be _godless _even though they did believe in Allah. This castle has always been here. It's a monument."

"Bull," Molly quipped, still tugging on the massive door's metallic handle. "I've come through this area a ton of times and it's been an over-grown field for ages. The worst I've ever had to worry about was treading through a bees nest halfway out into the field. I don't believe in vampires and all that stuff."

"No one knows if he was a real vampire." Johnson smiled at her. "But I promise you this," he continued, pushing a wiry strand of silver hair back behind his right ear. "He was a real _asshole_ by his mid-40's. His youngest son was a far more benevolent man but Vlad Tepes refused to allow his boy to get in the way of his tyranny. Adrian had his hands full trying to wrestle away his father's insanity. Vlad the Third only cared about two things in life: Making others suffer and some soft-hearted woman of whom he adored. Adrian's mother, no doubt she was. Some called him the _Opposite of Dracula_, earning him the anagram nickname of Alucard."

"This freakin' castle wasn't here yesterday," Molly protested softly.

James lifted his left foot, tapping the metallic plate with the date on it. "This claims otherwise," he replied.

"I don't care what it says," she groused with a frown. "I don't mean to be frumpy but I just came through this pass at right about this very hour, yesterday. Trust me, it wasn't here. See those mountains?" she asked, pointing off in the distance. "They're my compass in this area. I came back through last night and set up camp right here; I'd have noticed this place next to my tent don't you think? I'm telling you… there was no castle until I got up this morning."

James nodded slightly then said, "Yes, the Carpathian mountain range is a beautiful sight in the distance, aren't they? Almost hazy on a beautiful day and yet you can only see the outline of them when the fog rolls in."

"The ' Karpaty Range' doesn't lie," Molly told him. "They're a compass, like I said. Their arc runs, what? _Nine hundred_ miles or so? I don't think they changed over night and they're right were I left them, yesterday at this same hour," she added, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at the range in the distance. "They're a half an hour walk from here and you're at the foothills. Like I said, I know this area pretty good. This castle-thing was NOT here, yesterday. I could walk you from Bucegi in the Center of Romania, to this point… blindfolded. And I bet I wouldn't stumble on a single stone along the way, either."

James, bemused, reached passed her, for the door handle and began to pull as well. "You're telling me you can go from the peaks, all the way out, across the Transylvanian plains, blindfolded and still know where you are?"

"Some people don't even consider this area part of the Carpathian Foothills but I certainly know the area. And maybe it would take just a hair longer than half an hour but still," she muttered, placing her right foot against the doorframe while pulling with his help. The door didn't open. "What brings you out here?" she asked between grunts while trying to open the infernal object.

"I own a cottage at the edge of this property and saw you walking around the castle," said James. "I was born in London and attended Oxford University for four years. I've lived in Prague for a while and now I live here because I like the view. Trust me, this castle has been here since God was a boy," he told her, adding the last comment with a bit of playful sarcasm. "And I've _not_ seen you pass through this field several dozen times, believe me."

"I cross through the valley _every _day," Molly grumbled under her breath. "I trust my gut more than I trust this building being here since the 1400's, believe me."

"It is people like yourself who swear up and down about things that are simply based in rumor," James replied, also between grunts from trying to help her open the door. "Now we suddenly have fairy tales that leave scientists scrambling to prove or disprove something so we can call it legend or fact. Next thing you know, people will start rumors that this castle disappears and reappears from time to time and that will start another rumor that the Prince of Darkness still lives inside. Trust me; Vlad the Third has been dead for almost SEVEN HUNDRED YEARS. I'm almost old enough to have been his neighbor," Johnson added with a winded chuckle.

Suddenly the door swung ajar, throwing both Molly and James to the ground. They spilled over the grass, side by side. James blinked rapidly then announced, "I can't believe it opened."

"You claim to have lived right here for a few years and yet you've never been inside?" Molly balked. "And yes, I may be stubborn but I know I'm right. I set camp not far from here and when I woke up this morning, the skyline was filled with this freaky castle. No one moved my camp while I was asleep. And there's never been a cottage in this area before."

"I don't know what kind of alcohol you drank before making camp last night," James rebutted, "But if you have more, pass it my way."

"Indeed," she huffed, narrowing her eyes. Molly sat up and dusted herself off before peering in, through the opened door. The interior courtyard was heavily overgrown with shoulder-height weeds and a ridiculous amount of vegetation. It clamored up the sides of the brick walls within, all around the general area. The abandoned garden made it look as though no one had lived in this archaic castle for an Eon. To the immediate left, there was a horse stable connected to the side of the main building. In the corner, where the two connected, a cracked and crumbling set of stone-block stairs ascended to a set of massive double doors. They were boarded up with large beams of wood and steel beams.

Young Fields reached up to rub her eyes for a moment. "We're in the north-west most part of what used to be Wallachia, right?" Molly asked, placing her chin against the side of the gateway as she peered in through the opening. "…With the mountains to the east and north, right?"

"Yes, the realm of Transylvania; this is the modest area above the snowy lowlands of what was Wallachia up until the 19th century, why?" James' head was directly above hers, peering in to see the garden. It was over run with weeds as tall as some men stood, especially men from the 1700's. His eyes narrowed. "We'll need a sword to cut a swath through this …or one _really_ powerful lawnmower. Some farmers in this area still use scythes to take down tall grass."

"If this castle was here for almost _seven hundred years_, there would be a town to surround it," Molly continued to protest. "There's no town, just a field and a castle plop-right-in-the-middle. I'm as nomadic as any other gypsy in this nation; I know my way around."

"I'm telling you," said James, growing annoyed. "I've lived in that cottage for years. You just have no idea where you are and I don't know what compels me to look inside this grand old manor today but I can tell you that I've _avoided it _up until now."

"And that's nice. You're what? Sixty years old?" Molly groused, pulling out the dull machete from her gear. She'd used it to cut through high grass fields in the summer and dense, frozen shrubs in the winter time. Now would be no different. She pushed her shoulder against the aging gate, forcing it to open wider then lifted her right hand, holding the short, blunt blade upwards. As if on cue, the sky began to dim.

James glanced up, holding one hand over his face and peering through his fingers. "That's strange," he mused thoughtfully. "I didn't know we were supposed to have an Eclipse today. And no, for your information, Miss Fields, I'm not as old as my hair – or lack thereof – would lead you to believe; I was _joking_ about being almost old enough to have been Dracula's neighbor. I was only born in 1999. Please realize that the age of forty-five isn't quite the same as _sixty_."

"Gee Mister Johnson," Fields muttered, offering the same 'respect' before adding, "I _just _heard Dracula was 45 when _he_ became 'immortal' whether it be as a legend or otherwise. Like I said, I _don't _believe in vampires."

James stepped back to give her room to swing the blade but was still glancing up through his fingers at the Eclipse. "Technically speaking... he died in 1999, the year I was born, killed by a nineteen year old boy named Julius Belmont. Know the name?"

She paused; it was the name from her dream… she woke up with his name on her tongue. Molly shook her head and disregarded it as a coincidence. Perhaps she'd read the name on a brochure somewhere in town and it was on her mind subconsciously. "Unless you mean _Orange Julies_? No, never heard of it; could care less," she replied, beginning to chop through the weeds to clear a path into the garden. "It's getting awfully dark from that stupid Eclipse. This garden can wait until the sun is back out," she added, turning back towards James. Her eyes suddenly widened and her jaw went slack.

"What…?" James furtively glanced over his shoulder then gaped in shock, turning around completely. "How is _that_ possible?" he quipped; his eyes reflected the desolate village of abandoned town houses that stretched as far as he could see. Their white plaster and wood-beam structure was reminiscent of old European design. Eerily, a 15th century German coat of arms, stitched into a flag, hung from a pole attached to a window sill of the nearest house Adjacent to it, the sigil of the Dragon Order flew proudly. "The Holy Roman Empire hasn't existed since…"

"Lemmie frickin' guess …the Middle Ages …give or take? Yeah, well," Molly used her left hand to fluff her hair in that '_tolja so'_ fashion. "I told you this stuff wasn't here and now even more of it is. So now maybe you'll believe me."

"Listen, girl," James said, narrowing his gaze to squint out at the dark town. "I've lived here for a good number of years by an abandoned castle in an overgrown valley that's covered in snow usually two seasons a year, sometimes three. This town just appeared out of _no where_. I thought you didn't believe in the paranormal!"

"I believe that this whole place was a field yesterday because I walked through it," Molly argued. "Don't misunderstand; I don't believe in _vampires_. The unexplainable happens every day in life. And if vampires and supernatural shit happens, it's because there's some scientific reason."

"I can hardly see a thing," James grumbled softly. The ring around the solar eclipse began to fade until there was only darkness. Molly pulled a Mag-Lite from her rucksack and switched it on. Both were shocked to learn that fog had rolled in within seconds of the total darkness occurring. It was as if she had switched on the flashlight in the midst of a low level cloud.

The barometric pressure changed dramatically and the fog only seemed to grow denser. Molly turned back to face the doorway in which she still stood only to gasp in amazement. The weeds were gone, leaving a well maintained courtyard. Majestic walls of ivy clamored along the bulkheads. Rows of bushes and flowers lined the aisles which led from one end of the garden to the other. And yet the fog didn't seem to exist on the inside of the gateway arch.

"C'mon, get in here," she said, motioning for James to step through the doorway. He did and she followed, reaching for the door handle. The archaic gate, wooden with inlaid iron art, swung with ease upon well oiled hinges and that's when she realized that the wood and metal work now, quite suddenly, appeared to be in _mint _condition.

Something cold touched her nose. It proceeded to touch her cheek then the back of her hand. "It's about to rain… very hard, I can smell it. Let's hurry inside where there's shelter," she suggested, pointing the flashlight across the garden to a side entrance door on the far right. It led into the Grand Manor, opposite of the horse stables. James glanced over his shoulder at the gate entry from which they came, noting its exceptional condition. His eyes went wide but the man seemed rather quick to instinctively fall into step. The two headed through the garden and opened the mahogany door that led inside, just in time.

The sky opened up and dark droplets gushed from the heavens like a cataract. It rained so hard her flashlight's powerful beam couldn't even cut a swath into the pouring night sky. The visibility reduced to a mere meter of distance. "There wasn't hardly a rain cloud in the sky and now it's raining like there's no tomorrow," Molly muttered. "Raining this hard, there's no way this sudden storm won't blow itself out in just a few minutes." But those minutes dragged by and the rain continued with a steady, heavy pace.

After standing there in wait for several long moments, she pushed her hand out, through the doorway, into the rain then immediately jerked her hand back. James blinked, looking from her hand to the expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

Molly glanced at her wet fingers in confusion then lifted her gaze back to the doorway. "It's raining so hard that it stings. And… it's _freezing_. This is the summer season; it's as cold as ice. It's almost like hail but it's not collecting on the ground."

"That's rather odd," Johnson said, shaking his head slowly. He glanced back over his shoulder then smiled slightly. "We may be in luck," he added, hooking his thumb back down the hallway. "I see light up ahead and it feels warmer in that direction. Let's investigate, shall we, Miss Fields?"

"I guess we don't really have much of a choice, huh?" she pondered aloud, turning back towards the garden doorway. The door shut easily, clicking into place. She pointed the flashlight at the floor then the two began to walk towards the light of a hearth-fire. The inviting atmosphere, a large square living quarters at the end of the hallway, felt warmer. The dull roar of the rain could be heard in the background. For now, both seemed to be taking this eerie situation in some measure of grace...

* * *

A/N: _Okay I usually write Sly Cooper and StarFox fan fiction. But I was in the mood to put this up... I've got the first 35 pages done; chapter one starts with old man Julius answering an urgant call concerning a boy whose father was a known-yet-cured Werewolf. Don't expect me to hammer out 5 chapters a week like I do with my other fan fictions... this is just something for fun, on the side. It's been on my hard drive for a while and I wanted to get some of it out... however, if a lot of people get into the story, then I may give it more attention._

_For those of you who know me and my other stories... yeah, it's true: I usually post 3 to 5 LONG chapters (9 to 11 thousand words each) per week... but I'm so wrapped up in my other ten projects that... I dunno. I was just in the mood to write this. _

_:D_

_Let me know if you like what you've read so far, so I know if I should keep going or not... ;) _

_-Kit _

_PS: As of August 21st, 2007, I added a piece about Alucard at the beginning. Why? Well, two reasons, really… One, I never explained WHY Alucard showed up outside the Castle when Julius and Justus were standing there with the Turkish Prime Minister. It seemed awfully good timing on Alucard's part… I didn't want it to be cliché or anything, you know? Second of all, I thought it would be better to begin this Fan Fiction with a canon character that CV fans could relate to, y'know? Now everything makes more sense. _

_Father Belmondo is attacked at 1:55 in the morning at his Catholic Church just east of Japan's capital. He's found dead the next morning. However, at the exact same time he's in battle, Molly has some sort of creepy daydream concerning a zombie. She dreams that she's being murdered just as Father Belmondo is drawing his last breath, six time-zones east of her location. It all happens at the same time. _

_His death coincides with the arrival of Dracula's Castle. For James Johnson to make the claim that he's always lived near it… means that he's somehow tied to it. He may not know it just yet but… he never knew he was living in the spirit realm. When the two worlds merged, he and Molly crossed paths. Now it all makes sense, doesn't it? ;) _

_R&R please! _


	2. Chapter 1: Justus Lupus

A/N: _This chapter is long and it introduces all the back story but I've gotta get all the boring stuff out of the way so we can get to the action in Chapter 2! This chapter will also give us more backstory on Julius' trip to visit Dracula's castle in 1999. We'll also learn how he got into the magical structure. I use real life locations and did research to combine facts with fiction just for fun! _

* * *

Chapter -1-  
Justus Lupus

Great Britain, an hour later…

"**I feel sick, mom**." The young man's voice sounded almost boyish in nature. It was obvious that he didn't feel well but his face was painfully pale, as well. Justus Bell casually draped the backside of his right hand across his own forehead, feeling for a temperature. His throat hurt, his stomach ached and his abs felt tight. Oddly enough, his jaw throbbed horribly and he had a painfully horrid headache that seemed to be hurting most on the central top left and top right part of his head.

His lower spine was pounding and his ankles were swollen. His mother looked the nineteen year old boy over, shaking her head with a sigh. "Your father wouldn't have been pleased."

"Do you think I would help it if I could?" Justus asked, gawking at her. "You act like you know what's wrong with me and I should have the power to fix it. Do we have any Advil or something? I really feel like hell."

"Language, Mister Bell. I won't have you swearing to your mother, mister." She folded her arms and tried to look stern but seeing him like this really tore her apart. "Yes, your father had this problem too. Your Great Uncle knew how to cure this bane but we were all hoping that this blight wouldn't have been passed on to you."

"Bane? _Blight_?" Confusion marred the masculine features of the youth. Sandy tresses framed his face, one of the few members of his bloodline to have light facial features. "My father had this problem? What do I do? Should we see a doctor or can I just get some aspirin and sleep it off?" His normally gray eyes were now an odd coloration of the most brilliant amber. His mother recognized the symptoms.

"I'll call Julius and see if there's a way to stop this. But I'll warn you now," she told her son. "Your Great Uncle is a little _out there_, in left field. He managed to cure your father and the sickness never came back."

"The sickness?" Justus glared at her in his state of incomprehension. He stood only a few feet from his mother in the middle of the kitchen. Sunlight poured in through the kitchen window above the stove and brightly illuminated the cheery little setting. Justus Bell, however, felt horrible. "I've never met my Great Uncle Julius. Dad said he was a little _crazy in the head_ but that he should still be respected."

"That pretty much sums it up," said Justus' mother, Tina. Mrs. Tina Bell was a widow of four years, raising her teenager alone after her husband, Simon Bell, was killed in an automobile accident in South Romania on a Real Estate business trip. Tina shook her head slowly then said, "Your father had a genetic sickness that only affects one out of every ten percent of possible offspring. However, the gene stays dormant and we thought you would be a carrier but not actually have to go through this."

Justus snapped, "Go through what? I'm just coming down with the flu or something," turning for the pantry where the counter medication could be found. He swung the Formica cabinet wide then snatched a bottle of Pepto and a bottle of Advil. "I'm achy and my stomach hurts. What in the world are _you_ talking about, mom?"

Tina closed her hands into fists, holding back the tears that began to well up inside of her. "Your eyes are brownish yellow," she replied in a soft, almost empathetic tone.

"Huh?" Justus quirked a brow at her. She couldn't even scold him at this point. "They're as gray as a cloudy sky, mom. Maybe it's just the angle and the lighting," he added without thinking any more into the situation. Young Bell turned to the fridge and took out a pitcher with Tea in it. A moue of disgust crept across his face. "You know I hate when you make iced tea."

"I'm American," she grumbled defensively. "I can't help it that you and your father like your tea hot. I like it cold and I don't plan on changing. If you don't like it, drink water from the tap," Tina replied, ending on a sigh. "I'll call Julius, you take the Advil and Pepto then lay down on the living room sofa. Try to sleep it off, all right? Maybe you're right and you are coming down with the flu but either way, you need to rest."

She walked out of the kitchen and into her bedroom. Once the door was shut, she took her cellular telephone from her purse and picked up a beige address book that was lying on a desk adjacent to the bed. After looking up the contact information for Julius Belmont, she began to dial the number.

It rang… twice. A third time… but then a gruff voice answered on the other end of the line. "Yes?"

"Julius," said Tina, not sure if she felt relief or worry. "This is Simon's Wife. Tina, remember?"

"Yes," Julius replied quietly. "One doesn't forget a family member who changes their surname from 'Belmont' to 'Bell' …but I don't hold it against you. I'm surprised you called. Is everything all right?"

Tina's voice seemed a bit weak at first but she knew she had to tell the man. "Justus' eyes turned and he is feeling the physical ailments of the change that Simon was experiencing. Can you help him the way you helped Simon?"

"The cure is only a temporary fix but with enough of it, he can make pills like Simon did," Julius said on the other line. "Maybe they can do something more modern like a vaccination." The older man still had an iron-strong tone of voice but she could tell that he had aged a great deal since they last spoke at Simon's funeral. "But the weed that it's made from only grows one season a year, like Hyacinth. I would have to travel to the Moravian Hills to find it but we won't see it again until late March."

"It's happening _now_, Julius," Tina said, clinching her left hand into a fist once more. She shifted the cellphone from her right ear to her left, clutching it between her ear and left shoulder. "Julius, is there anywhere we can find it? What should I do with him? He's in pain. You remember Justus... He's the kind of boy who could take a baseball to the face and finish playing the rest of the game. For him to want pain killers _really _surprises me."

"I do remember that he has quite the tolerance to pain," Julius mused on the other end of the line. "He's only one-third the blood of a Belmont but he certainly has the upper body strength and endurance of my _own _Grandfather. I'll tell you what, Tina."

"Yes?" She sat down on the bed, switching the phone back to her right ear while using her free hand to push her hair over the opposite shoulder. Those light brown locks tumbled down her left cheek, cascading over the front of her chest.

"I'll come and visit you. I can be there by _ten_ tomorrow morning," said Julius. "Don't worry. I should be able to help him but he might learn about the transformation at least once before we can find the medicine. The thing is, I need him to travel to Romania with me because I'm not quite the young man I once was. And, of course, you know if he changes completely… then I have to release him to the wild until the cycle ends."

"…I know," said Tina, distress evident in her tone of voice. "He doesn't even _know_."

"Well, it's not like it's his fault that my half-brother married one of those things," Julius said with a reluctant sigh. "I'm going to go and purchase my tickets. I'll be in on the first Delta Airlines flight that I can get. Just sit tight."

"Should I tell him everything?" Tina asked.

Julius sighed over the line. His gruff voice softened only slightly. "It might be a little awkward, considering that Simon never really went into details about it to his own ..._wife_. If things would be easier, just wait until I arrive. Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and find a flight with an opening that leaves tonight. I'll call you at this number when I arrive in town. My proper English is a little rusty, having spent the last few years between The Czech Republic and Japan."

"Your English sounds fine to me," Tina replied. "I'll await your phone call, Julius. Thank you for coming so soon. Justus is a bright boy and I want to see him attend a nice University, down in London. I don't want to see him stalking the streets, scratching for fleas."

"Are you sure that's what he's having?" Julius asked. "The likelihood of having the exact same symptoms as Simon is very slim. Either way, I see you're determined for his health so I'll call you back when I'm in town." He ended the call and Tina took a moment to glance at the phone before flipping the top shut and lying back across her bed. Had she only known that she'd married a werewolf before she was pregnant, she might have thought twice about the marriage in the first place.

"Nineteen years too late, now," Tina told herself. "He's going to hate his Great Grandmother's blood, that's for sure."

* * *

Eighteen Hours Later… 

**Tina Bell's cell phone rang**. She answered it, glancing at the clock. It was 9:45 am. Julius was on the other line and responded to her weary-sounding greeting with his firm, too-masculine voice. "I'm standing in line at the Car Rental booth. I'll be up there in thirty minutes, if traffic permits. It's rather incredible – the cost of Petrol, here."

Tina sat up in bed, rubbing her face with the backside of her left hand. "Remember, Julius: Other side of the road, here in England. I'll see you when you arrive. I take it you still remember the way by heart?" she asked.

"It was right off of the main road, on the Northbound side. Third house on the left with the gray roof and double chimney," he said.

"Good memory, old man," Tina said in a partially jesting voice. It was her way of showing that she felt some measure of relief that he came to England to try and help Justus with the situation. She then added, "Justus is growing worse. His eyes are vertical-slit and yellowish, now. He's also complaining that his lower back is hurting."

"Hmm," Julius frowned. Belmont decided that the progression came rather rapidly and offered a sigh over the line. "His tail should be coming in very soon. What about his jaw, any pain there?"

"Tremendous pain; he was complaining of that just last night. I hate that this is happening to him," she said, her tone of voice growing thin and full of worry once more. "Why couldn't I have a normal marriage with a white picket fence; a teacher or police bobby, maybe… why did I have to fall in love with a man who turned into a goddamn animal?"

"I did some genealogy research, last night, Tina." Julius suddenly paused. The line sounded scratchy and muffled as if he'd put his hand over the cellphone for a moment. She could vaguely make out his voice in the background and assumed that he made it to the front of the line of his rental car agency. The muffled speech lasted just a few more moments then his voice returned. "All right, I'm picking up my vehicle now and I'll be there shortly. Anyway, there is a chance that Justus will be able to learn how to control this at times. Normally this should have occurred at puberty but with Justus and Simon, the Belmont Blood probably kept the bane at bay for a while longer. I'll explain what I know upon arrival. Until then," he concluded and immediately disconnected the line before she could say anything further.

* * *

…Approximately fifty-five minutes later… 

**Julius and Justus sat on the living room sofa**, side by side. "The werewolf blood ties in _here _with Cornell. And this is Juste, the man you were named after. Now, back to these two," Julius said, placing his finger on the mother and father of Christopher Belmont. Between Julius and Justus sat a rather splendid looking book of the Belmont Family. "And this is why the Belmont Line is so close in ties to the Belnades family. Trevor and Sypha gave way to Christopher. Although Trevor and Sypha came together, her brother continued the Belnades family name. It continues today and the two families have crossed paths on and off for seven hundred years."

Justus tilted his head. "The family names have survived that long and can be traced back that far… and both still survive?" He looked a bit surprised. Although it wasn't like "Smith" had originated from one person, either.

"Yes," Julius mused thoughtfully, adding, "Yoko Belnades is the latest sorceress descendent of Sypha, but you won't see me following in Trevor's footsteps with her. Now, I've traced your lineage back towards Cornell, so it's rather ironic that you have a piece of that bloodline. Cornell also sought to defeat Dracula, like many Belmonts and Belnades, and now you have a bit of all three in your blood, which makes me wonder what your future lot in life may be. You're lucky; if my father hadn't had an illegitimate child, my half brother, then Simon wouldn't have had a father."

"Maybe I should fight vampires, Uncle J. You going to teach me how to throw knives and snap a whip?" Justus, while ill, was able to afford a meager grin before returning his gaze to the genealogical records that were photocopied for this lesson. "All right, so now I vaguely understand a blood-history fairy tale. How do we reverse or suppress this change until I learn to control it?"

"Without the plant needed to make the suppression medication," Julius mused, closing the book firmly, "We have no choice but to head to where it grows and see if we can't secure a stockpile in dry storage by one of the shop owners in the area. It's used as a cooking spice for very rare but very special delicacies in the gourmet world, in the Romanian Culture. But I'm getting a bit too old to go wondering Romania by myself anymore so I invite your company. I don't invite people often, so consider this a special occasion."

"Seriously?" Justus blinked rapidly. "I'm sick as a dog but I think I can manage for a chance to check out something outside of England. I've never even left the country before. I'll have to get a passport."

The old man shook his head slowly; brown tresses framed his aging face. "Sick as a dog… you have no idea just how close that expression works for you right now. Although, you're far from an actual dog; a werewolf isn't something to be taken very lightly. This is a learning experience but," Julius shook his head again then added, "While I invite your company, I do expect you to recognize that I'm a serious man. I don't have time to baby sit. It's not what I do. It'll be two grown men, each pulling their own weight. Understood?"

Justus nodded slowly. "I'm not a ward; I won't slow things down. When do we leave?"

"I'll speak with your mother. But the fact of the matter is… The sooner the better," Julius replied earnestly. "It may be the crucial key to your rapid recovery. There's only one problem: No matter how sick you are and how much you hurt, you'll be walking a lot. Okay?"

"Sounds fine. I don't want this pain and if you tell me that I'm turning into a dog," Justus mused, tapping his chin. "I'd better walk, if I want to dance at my wedding with someone normal."

Julius narrowed his eyes then said, "It's becoming a _werewolf_. You need to take this seriously, Justus. At any rate, it won't take over your _life_, per say, but it will make a _social _life rather difficult. There have only been a handful of people since Cornell, himself, who have had this problem. While he had it, he was the _only_ one who had control over it but it required rigorous training. After that, he sacrificed his powers in an attempt to help a little girl; his foster family member. It was quite a surprise to find out that his great granddaughter became a werewolf… he wasn't around to teach her how to deal with it and she became an outcast. She married into royalty somehow and the Prince loved her enough that he used his money to pay people to look the other way. It became far more complicated two or three generations later when it surfaced again."

He paused then glanced down, reaching the fingers of his right hand to slide through the soft auburn and brown mixed hair. There were a few gray strands and his mustache was thinning out but he looked damn good for the age of sixty-four. "I don't even want to think about Cornell's parents, a full blood human and full blood werewolf… It seems taboo to even imagine the joining and I don't have a lot of information for that branch of the family tree. Your father was a half-werewolf, so we assumed that Simon's offspring had nothing to worry about. I guess you got unlucky, Justus."

"Guess I did," Justus grumbled softly. "Go talk to mom and I'll go pack. I want to see a place like Romania; that would be awesome. But I don't believe in all that crap, like Dracula, and stuff like that. Anyway, whatever I'm sick with, I'm willing to try something natural out in another country if I had to."

"You won't find it before the first change occurs," old man Belmont replied with a sigh. "But we'll deal with that if it happens. So, let's get things going. Like you said," Julius mused softly. "Go pack and I'll speak with your mother."

The conversation between Julius and Tina Bell didn't last long. It was another hour before the two men were ready and Julius was escorting Justus to the Rental Car. Julius was prepared to answer questions about Lycanthrope but Justus didn't seem to be in the mood to ask at the moment. The old man kept his hands tight on the wheel as the two drove towards the airport. "I'm sure you _must_ have questions about zoanthropy or the transformation of the therianthropy status, Justus." Belmont cast a side-glance at the younger male. Justus Bell stayed silent.

Continuing, Belmont tilted his head but still kept a strangely tight grip upon the wheel. "You seemed eager or, rather, quite willing to go …up until this point," Julius added, shaking his head just slightly.

"I don't feel very good," the boy admitted, sourly. "A trip to Romania is something interesting, of course, but when my body aches and whatnot… at least this badly, I guarantee you wouldn't be in the mood to talk or travel either. …Anyhow."

"It's just because this is close to your first transformation," Julius replied. "The moon will be full tomorrow. Once that happens, your change will happen for that first time, against your will. You won't lose your consciousness or become an insane, frenzied beast," Belmont continued to explain. "However, you'll be seen as quite the menace to society until you learn how to change back at will. That and you have to keep your temper in check."

"Does it always hurt before a full moon?" Justus asked softly. "And why do I have to keep my temper in check when I change?"

"You only feel this kind of pain during the first or second time, from what I understand of it," Julius mused in a thoughtful tone of voice, easing into the accelerator… "I've not been back in that part of the world for a few years, you know. And as far as your temper? If you frenzy and fall into an instinctual temper tantrum, you'll do more harm than good." The old man paused then glanced over at the boy.

"I've heard rumors about you, as well," Justus replied. "If you'll pardon me, once we get onto the airplane, I plan to take a nap and try to sleep off this constant joint-ache. All right?"

The elder Belmont nodded slowly then added, "As you will; I'm doing this as a favor and because I want a stout young man at my side in that country. You'll see why once we arrive."

"Whatever." Justus' grumbled word was followed by silence. That silence would remain for the rest of the night. Even Julius found himself fairly surprised that a young man had so very little to say but he could empathize. He may have had strange and extraordinary abilities but having fought for his life in 1999 and battled an intense concentration of evil in the mid 2030's, Julius was no stranger to body aches and physical pain.

After securing a passport, the two had arrived at the airport and the plane left as scheduled. Hardly a word was spoken in that time and it remained that way until an hour after the landing in Romania when the two checked into a hotel in the west end of Transylvania. The town area had developed into the fine beginnings of a metropolitan city and, regardless of the immense empty space to the southeast of the city limits, Transylvania was quite the bustling region anymore.

The Capital City, Cluj-Napoca had obviously prospered beyond a simple, historical and cultured town area. Lavish twin spires filled the eastern skyline and a majestic soirée of skyscrapers, all shapes and sizes, held the western sky. And yet, beyond the city walls, Transylvania was more urban than the legends painted. Most of the province had become an extension of city and town with the suburban districts stretching far and wide.

This city wasn't nearly as old fashion as Sibiu. A pamphlet at the Hotel's lobby showed that city on the cover of the folded paper. Sibiu, at the center of the city, held a gothic style theme in its buildings. The pictures were beautiful and Justus felt drawn to them just glancing over the paper photographs.

Many of those buildings had scaffolding surrounding them. The obvious signs of repair and restoration efforts did well to show that the government cared for the heritage and history there. It wasn't as fancy as another pamphlet for Bucharest, to the west, but the city did hold a fair amount of charm that London lacked in the eyes of an Englishman. The sights of such things as St. Michaels Cathedral held the skyline of Cluj-Napoca, however. Justus felt captivated.

From what Julius mentioned, upon approaching the Transylvania borders, Romanian fields were as earthy as could be described. While Cluj-Napoca was fairly close to the center of Romania, further south still had sections of unpopulated earth. The landscape seemed to bare little or no transition. From the far end of the horizon, one could see the majestic concrete jungle, while at the other end, things were rural beyond expectation. Rolling hills and the majestic Carpathian Mountains filled the distant eastern skyline while the valley flat was more towards the south and southeast.

It was on these very grounds that the forests and valleys of Wallachia once existed. It was in this area that Julius and his family members were so strangely drawn many times over. And yet now, everything seemed peaceful. As the sun began to sink into the horizon opposite of the Mountains, their snow-topped peaks began to glow orange in the last vestiges of evening sunlight. As darkness swept the valley east of Transylvania... the Carpathian range, or what one could see of it from such a vantage point, was sparkling at the visible crest.

The orange crown slowly faded until it, too, was swallowed by the evening. The night before a full moon, Justus found himself in utter pain. He soaked in the hotel-room bathtub for hours on end and yet it brought only minor relief. Once night came, Justus and Julius began to do their best to settle in. Tomorrow, they would begin a camping adventure to the southeast of Transylvania. Besides Justus' pain, only one small detail worried Julius Belmont...

The local newspaper mentioned an odd Solar Eclipse which occurred the day before yesterday. Julius recalled the climatic moments in 1999 when he banished Dracula and his entire castle into a Solar Eclipse. The fact that the castle reappeared in Japan during a Solar Eclipse just about a decade ago caused Julius to double take at the thought of an unscheduled Solar Eclipse. Julius Belmont didn't want to begin connecting dots but part of the reason he wanted to come here in the first place had something to do with that Eclipse.

The elderly man knew he had to investigate as soon as he'd heard of the occurrence and the ulterior motive in bringing Justus Bell brought him no guilt. The fact of the matter was that he wanted someone like Justus on this trip and the possibility of curing the boy seemed a perfect alibi. After all, who got on a plane, flew to London then personally brought out a family member to a place like this, after only meeting the kid two or three times in the past? Tina's call provided Julius with the perfect travel companion at the perfect time.

Julius wasn't the type of guy to manipulate a situation for his benefit but certainly killing two birds with one stone seemed practical. Straight forward and practical was often Julius' way of living. He didn't like drama but finding a family member to which he could pass on his whip? That was a fairly important task as the old man grew closer to death by age. Giving the Vampire Killer to a werewolf, however, would be awkward. In the end, Julius decided that Justus would simply be a candidate worthy of _testing_.

The town of Bran would be the first start but a seasoned professional like Julius Belmont knew that wasn't the real location. Castle Bran, built in 1377, was as notorious as the stakes at the base of Timpa Hill where many rumors of impaling began in the mid 1400's. Finally they would continue on to Poenari Castle, where Julius was able to locate a portal to the true location of Dracula's Castle, forty-five years ago.

According to Julius, it was rumored to be a special, almost futuristic metallic chamber put into place by Prince Mihnea, one of Vlad Dracula's children. The remains of Poenari Castle were originally constructed in 1459 by Turkish Prisoners. The remains of the castle were embedded into the rock in the Argus Valley. Julius explained that it would be a 1500 stair climb to reach the top and that he wished for Justus to feel rested before they arrived. The two continued to speak of this in the hotel room, but Justus Bell did more listening than reciprocating conversation.

Julius wasn't the kind of man to ramble on, however. He was simply explaining things to Justus on a need-to-know basis. Justus wasn't feeling well enough to ask why they would be visiting Bran or Poenari Castle on the Arges River but he had a feeling that the old man was here to check on things so that he could feel comfortable knowing that everything seemed in order. All of that suited Justus just fine, so long as they were able to cure this new ailment.

"So is Dracula really the stuff of video games, movies and novels?" Justus asked, lying on the bed, trying to spread out on his back.

"He's not a count," Julius explained. "He's a Prince. He was killed and buried near Bucharest, on an island. In 1935, his body was exhumed and… let's just say that was a foolish thing to do because Dracula's castle made another appearance during the Second World War. But the body found in '35 was without a head because Dracula's head was removed at death and given as a trophy to a Turkish Sultan.

What most people didn't know was that the Turkish Sultan wanted the head of Dracula to try and assume the Prince's power. The head was able to project an astral form and Vlad Tepes Dracula, continued to walk the Earth. No one realized that defeating Dracula over and over had no effect. It wasn't until I had obtained the skull in 1998, took it to Dracula's Castle the following year and locked both him _and_ his castle into a Solar Eclipse… But then some foreign exchange student, in Japan, named Soma Cruz was born as the reincarnation of Dracula."

"So Dracula's spirit finally transferred from the skull to a human being?" Justus was lying still, trying not to let the pain get to him. The clouds in the evening sky, which passed over the nearly full moon, provided some measure of relief for some reason but his body still ached horribly.

"I'm surprised," Julius suddenly said. "I just told you that I personally fought and defeated a vampire who is centuries upon centuries old… And your next question says to me that you believe it whole heartedly."

"Mom said you were a little weird," Justus admitted. "But I _was_ just told I'm about to become a werewolf and my eyes have changed to allow better vision at night and my body is hurting in strange places. Who the hell am _**I**_ to argue that you had a fight with someone who has been dead for a long time?"

"I just want to ensure he's gone before the year 2476," Julius replied with a shrug. "Story book villains tend to become bent on world domination right around that thousand-year mark. The future of the Belmont Line should not have to worry about the resurrection of someone like Dracula."

Justus couldn't even bring himself to shrug in return. He just lay there, on his back. "Theoretically speaking, shouldn't there be some sort of balance of Good and Evil? No matter who you kill, someone takes his or her place to keep the balance of nature, law and order."

"Well…" The old man shifted his weight down upon the other bed, looking over Justus with a sigh. "Dracula has been the Belmont Family specialty for generations. He comes back; we drive him back to Torpor. If he still exists, he's plotting revenge right now. Either way, he's been banished to a Solar Eclipse. I believe he's gone."

"Great. So you wanna visit his place to make sure?" Justus asked. "Are we fixing my dilemma _before_ or _after_ your personal business is complete?"

"We're killing two birds with one stone," Julius explained. "The only place I've seen these weeds grow this time of year is at the summit of Poenari Castle's remains. I'm hoping that we'll be able to find it. Rumor had it that Vlad found a way to make it grow there, all year around, to keep the werewolves from scratching at his castle gates."

"How convenient," Justus mumbled. "Why didn't you just say that to mom?"

Julius turned to glare at the boy. In a sudden flit of temper, the aging Belmont displayed something abnormal for his personality: _Sarcasm_. "Hey, Tina. Julius Belmont here; I want to take your son to Dracula's Home… you know how we Belmont's have a history with the old Vamp, but there's nothing to worry about!" He shook his head, those chocolate tresses spilling over his shoulders. "Sorry, Justus, but you really have to have consideration for your mother. Making her worry the entire time isn't good for her health."

Justus sat up on the mattress, glancing over at the man on the other bed. He didn't know Julius well enough to find the sarcastic outburst out of place but he did feel the need to offer rebuttal. "Look, Mr. Belmont, Mom probably doesn't believe in Dracula anymore than _I_ do. Science can explain my condition as a rare genetic defect or wildly exotic disease. However, vampires don't stalk the night drinking the blood of their victims. The Belmont family has fought scientifically explainable lunatics who used their mind over matter to come off as a vampire because of their deeply disturbing belief in themselves as such. Nothing more."

"I'm glad the world is able to laugh about Dracula," Julius said softly. "Because it's a far better place than a world that lives under his evil reign."

"Geeze," Justus closed his eyes and sank back onto his twin-sized mattress. "So I'm named after Juste Belmont, huh?"

Julius offered a light smile in reply to the question. "Did you remember his name from my lesson in genealogy from before we left England?" The old vampire killer slipped off his bed and went to the window, glancing out into the evening sky.

"Yeah," Justus said softly. "So, Curtea De Agres, tomorrow?" The boy glanced down at one of the hotel brochures that rested across his lap then cut his gaze back towards the older man.

"Yes," Julius said in a firm, flat voice. The typical Belmont personality came back rather quickly. His eyes narrowed and his gaze shifted to the nearby window and the sky beyond. "The expense to fly into _this_ city was far less, saving us money to travel for tomorrow. Also, I've been banned to fly into the Capital. It's a long story I do not wish to explain. Let's just say I'm on record there."

"What about your whip?" Justus asked. "I thought you can't take weapons on planes?"

"I didn't," Julius replied with a knowing smirk. "You'll see, day after tomorrow." The old man stood up, approached the window and drew the shades to ward off the dark eastern sky.

"You want to go that soon?" Justus asked, tilting his head from the pillow to glare at the other man. "Why the rush?"

"I have to be there at 10:30 in the morning," Julius explained. "I'll be receiving a priority delivery from DHL; I don't want to be late. It's just an insurance delivery to _insure_ that all is well."

"Whatever," Justus grumbled. "I'm going to sleep. I took some sleeping pills a little while ago and if you don't mind, I'm kinda finished talking about some wacko's house at the foothills of the mountains. Let's go to bed, huh?"

"I suppose I'm being stubborn in my old age," Julius muttered. "Goodnight, Justus Bell. Let's hope your body has no plans of changing in the middle of the night, hmm?"

Justus' voice was beginning to grow as groggy as he was now feeling. "I took enough Unisom to help an Elephant sleep peacefully. I don't think you'll have to worry. Under normal conditions, just _one_ Benadryl will keep me out for the night; Unisom is exactly double the dosage of one Benadryl."

"Fair enough." Julius reproached the other bed, turning out the hotel room light.

* * *

**At Eight in the morning**, Justus sat up, watching Julius from across the room. Belmont was buttoning his coat, standing in front of the door. Their eyes met in the mirror bolted to the back of the door. Julius turned about and nodded. 

Justus, in return, offered a nod then kicked the blankets to the floor. "Something says we're not leaving just yet or you'd have woken me. Give me a few minutes to get at myself."

"I was going to the Post Office and," Julius said, finding himself suddenly interrupted by Justus.

"…Get breakfast, right? Let's get an early start. I sat in the tub for hours last night, so it's not like I need a shower this morning. Just give me a minute and we'll roll out."

Julius Belmont nodded slowly. "So be it."

Within half an hour, the two were heading to a small airport, outside of town. A prop-engine airplane took them into the next town. The plane touched down by Ten-Thirty at a Flex-Jet refueling station at the edge of a large airport. They collected their duffle bags and headed into the main terminal where Justus led them to a travel center kiosk. At the booth, he signed them up for an afternoon tour of Bran Castle owned by the Habsburg family.

Julius arranged transportation to Braşov and they returned to the Flex-Jet building. By noon, the two had arrived, claimed their bags and found themselves in a public shuttle bus. The elder Belmont turned to the boy and asked, "How're you holding up? You've not said much in the last few hours."

Young Bell frowned. "Better than last night but isn't tonight… you know, the night?"

"Weather calls for overcast skies all night," Julius said. He frowned then added, "Tomorrow night calls for clear skies."

"Wonderful." Justus leaned back in the seat on the bus, added, "So what's the game plan?" then returned to silence.

Julius folded his hands in his lap, stoic and relaxed. "We head to two different locations today. It's going to be cloudy tonight and rain tomorrow morning. The storm will be out of the area tomorrow by two in the afternoon, give or take an hour; it's going to be clear skies by tomorrow night." He grew quiet, cutting his eyes to the passing scenery.

"Bran then …?" Justus seemed fairly well educated.

"Bran first, yes," Julius replied with a firm nod. "Then Poenari's remains. That's the name of the real one."

"The _real one_ huh?" Justus closed his eyes, sighed and grew quiet.

* * *

**Castle Bran** sat majestically upon a hill. Justus and his Great Uncle, Julius Belmont, made their way through the tourist markets, several of which sold "Dracula" T-shirts and other merchandise accoutrements. The entire interior was not accessible to the public, however. Only certain rooms granted access to the tourists. 

Julius and Justus joined the back of a tour group, remaining quiet. Once the group made it to the third floor, the tour guide began explaining a secret passage that led back to the first floor. Part of the tour utilized this secret passage; the group of people took the steps, single file, with Justus and Julius at the very back. Halfway down the stairs, Justus glanced over his shoulder only to realize that his uncle disappeared.

Belmont now had his back against a concrete wall, on the other side of the staircase. He kept his ear to the wall until the footfalls ceased on the other side. His fingers traced the track in the concrete where the wall opened to the staircase, keeping his back flat against it. Satisfied that the tour group was no longer in the adjoining hallway, Belmont turned his attention back to the dark room.

Julius slid his hand into an interior coat pocket, drawing out a box of matches. The Diamond-Head brand of 'strike-anywhere' matches opened with ease and he drew out a match. Julius knelt and placed the match against the stone floor, dragging the head across the granite until the head flared to life. Julius approached a statue at the other end of the small room and grinned inwardly.

The aged Belmont placed his free hand against the statue, leaning it forward, exposing the base. He eased his hand beneath the statue and closed his fingers around an ovular stone, retrieving it from the hollowed basin. The match grew dim in his other hand; the stone was placed into his inside jacket pocket and the old bounty hunter headed back for the square section of the wall, mounted on old iron hinges.

He stepped back up onto the staircase and turned back to the faux wall, pulling it shut. Julius reached into his pants pocket, removed a fist-shaped magnet and slid it across the concrete wall until the metal tumbler slid back into place. He added pressure to the wall to ensure that it would not move then whirled around to face…

…Justus Bell folded his arms across his chest, standing a few stairs down the case. He narrowed his eyes at the older man then, in a quiet voice, asked, "Been here before, have you?"

"More than once," Belmont replied with a firm nod. "We've got find a hotel; I want to have you settle in and take some of those sleeping pills again. Tonight is the full moon… weather aside, I want you to be relaxed and possibly sleeping because you're going to be in pain later."

"Dammit." Justus muttered under his breath, turning away from the older man for a moment. He then asked, "What was that all about, anyhow? Something of interest in that wall?"

"This," Julius said, pulling the stone out of his pocket. Now, in slightly better lighting, he noticed a tag on the bottom of the object. "What in the…" he trailed off and descended the stairs, into the next hallway. Julius approached a window and studied the sticker on the object. "Well I'll be."

"Yes?" asked Justus who followed behind his uncle.

Julius shifted his eyes to the boy then back to the stone in his palm. "Apparently that room has been located in the last forty-five years; this stone has a tag on it, marking it as a belonging to this castle. We've got to catch a bus and settle in at our hotel; I've got what I came for, let's go."

* * *

36 hours later… 

**Typical** **tourists were coming and going** up the side of the staircase leading to Poenari Castle. Justus felt a bit better and his change hadn't occurred yet. Julius, on the other hand, seemed distracted by something else all together. The young man approached the elder and folded his arms, looking down at Belmont who knelt in the dirt.

"What've you found, Colombo?"

"They're cow prints," Julius muttered. "But look at how the indentation is made here," he said, brushing his finger at the base of one of the prints. "Do you know what that means?"

"The cow was running?" Bell replied with a shrug. Julius glanced up with a smile. It was the first time the boy saw Julius actually _smile_; he couldn't help but feel awkward about it.

"Running, sure. Galloping is more like it. How many galloping cows do you know of?" asked the older Belmont. "Unless you get horseshoes specially made for your steed. There are no free roaming cows in a tourist attraction area in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains."

"Let me guess," Justus grumbled in a flat tone, "Dracula once fled his enemies on a horse, leaving cow tracks?"

"In the year 1462," Julius acknowledged, pensively touching his thumb to his chin in thought. "He was evading the Turks and a rogue mercenary Belmont named Cyrus. He was Trevor's Paternal Grandfather. I don't mean to suggest anything; it's probably just a coincidence."

"Or it's not a set of cow tracks," Justus chuckled softly, adding, "It's the tracks of a horse made by one of the travel guards, here." As if by some extreme coincidence, a travel guard approached the two, looking down at Julius on his knees.

The guard spoke to Belmont for a moment and Julius replied in the language native to the area. Justus didn't understand it and so he remained quiet. Julius said something else then the guard nodded and began to walk away, speaking to the next set of tourists in the area.

"Did he want a cigarette or something?" Justus asked.

"How in the world did you know that? I thought you only spoke English," Julius said, looking somewhat surprised.

Justus shrugged then said, "He's a soldier, you can tell by his uniform. The first thing _any_ soldier usually asks for is a cigarette and the second thing, a light. I assume he also asked if you were all right. I mean, it's not every day you see an old man on the ground and a teenager standing there with a blank expression on his face, looking like he doesn't belong here, and standing around like an idiot."

"You're right; he also asked to make sure I didn't need any medical assistance." Julius was fairly impressed by the kid's insight and intuition. "Your attention to detail is pretty good. I'm glad to know I have a sharp eye watching my back. I'm getting pretty old, after all."

"Don't bullshit me," Justus exclaimed. "You could have taken me _and_ that guard in arm wrestling. And you're how old? A thousand?" Justus' soft eyes twinkled with mirth and Julius could see the boy was trying to have a playful sense of humor despite his physical ailments concerning the werewolf sickness.

"That would make me just a little older than Dracula," Julius said, coming to his feet. "You know, historical lore claims that Dracula's first wife, Lisa, cast herself from this castle as a distraction to keep the Turks from capturing her while Vlad fitted his horse with cow-track shoes and raced over the mountainside back to Bran. But from what I understand, Lisa was killed as a witch for her knowledge of medicine. I wonder which of his wives _really_ jumped to their death from this castle?" Both men glanced up at the cliff-side fortress, Poenari Castle.

"Not much left of that structure," Justus said with a frown. "Are you sure there are secret rooms in that place? It looks as though someone has sacked the castle and burned it to the foundations."

"It's there. Do you remember the artifact I took from Bran?" Julius asked.

"Unfortunately, yes I do," the boy replied, making a sour face.

"It's a key to unlock the inner sanctum, so stay close." Julius and Justus approached the 1500 stairs that would lead to the top, glancing at one another before they began to ascend. Julius continued to speak, adding, "I want your help to ensure that no one is watching what we do. Once I see that inner sanctum, I'll be satisfied. We'll search for the weeds and head home."

Justus couldn't help but ask, "How will seeing a dark room make you feel better?"

"That chamber has a seal on it," Julius began, thinking of the right words to phrase his explanation. "If the seal is broken, I'll worry. However, simply seeing the seal in place and seeing the room undisturbed will make me feel better about this _random_ and un-planned Solar Eclipse that was reported about in the paper we saw the other day."

Justus chuckled. "And if Drac is back, we go and kill him again?"

"Absolutely." Julius' firm tone was unnerving. "I know you were trying to make a joke but I'm serious. If that seal has been broken, I have no choice but to pass through the transportation chamber and finish what I started, all over again." The two continued the light chitchat as they hiked the stairs together. "What's sad is the fact that this blood sucker is a Romanian Folk hero, here. He's not the evil Count that Bram Stoker portrayed him to be."

"So he's more than an evil Count, after all?" Justus asked as the two continued a light jog up the large steps. The young man waited to hear the drawn out lecture he expected Julius to deliver.

"He's the Lord of Darkness," Julius snapped quickly. "He's powerful beyond means. He can use his hatred to decimate an indoor garden twice the size of a cathedral using fire on a whim… with a mere thought. He can shift his form to that of a bat, a gray wolf or even the mist itself. Dracula can mimic the magic of his foes. He's incredibly powerful and intelligent. Throughout the 1800's, he used to collect state of the art technology and use it in perverse ways such as this teleportation chamber I mentioned."

"You're getting weirder by the minute," young Justus replied quickly. "I can't say I'll be disappointed when we get to the top of this thing and there is nothing more than rubble and tourists. I understand that Dracula was a real guy but I think this stuff was blown way out of proportion and he was just some asshole who murdered a lot of Turks and Saxons."

Belmont scoffed. "_Twenty_ _thousand_ heads and impaled bodies that lined the road from Tirgoviste," Julius noted as the two passed the thousandth step. "This is a man who embraces _**darkness**_ not necessarily trivial things like …murder. Breaking one of the Ten Commandments doesn't make you the Lord of Darkness, Justus. Vlad was faithful to his wife, he was a Christian Crusader and he probably never used the Lord's name in vain. He most likely respected his mother and father and lived by every other Commandment in the book save for the one about not killing."

"So what makes him the all-powerful Lord of Evil?" Justus asked, huffing his breath in a rhythmic sound as the two hiked up the steps. "Or is he self-proclaimed?"

"His mastery of dark power," Julius explained. "His ability to tempt, seduce and inspire evil. I'm not as biblical of a man as some Belmonts' were but I do know that the end of the world is written to begin with the return of the Devil to the mortal world. It happens _before_ the return of the Savior. If Dracula returns as the Lord of Darkness from beyond the Mortal Realm, and if he's allowed to stay in the physical world, we're all gambling with our destiny as a species if we let him live. I know it's blunt but who has room to gamble?"

"So, to be even _more_ blunt than you," Justus began, "Just incase Dracula is the Devil Reincarnated, you wanna be around to kill him every single chance you get just to ensure that Humanity stays around for a lot longer, to keep Armageddon from being triggered?"

"That's the gist of it," Julius answered with a nod and a slight smile, the second Justus had seen the man offer in the last few days. "So, about that artifact I took from Bran Castle yesterday…"

"The one I nearly flipped out over when you stole it? You know, I really bit my tongue when you did that. If you weren't my Great Uncle, I'd have ratted you out." Justus narrowed his eyes at the aging man. "I didn't know you were a kleptomaniac, too, old man."

"It's the key; I always return it when I've finished with it; that way I can ensure it's where it belongs when I have to go back. Are you ready?" Belmont inquired as the two finally began to near the summit of the Poenari ruins. "Today should be perfect; the tourists will clear out any minute."

"How do you know?" Justus asked with a raise of his eyebrows. Noticing the furrow of young Mr. Bell's brows, Julius simply cocked the slightest smile; the corner of his mouth tugging just a bit.

Before Justus could ask again, Julius lifted his right hand and pointed at the morning sky. Large, billowing storm clouds began to roll in quick, following the air current. The barometric change caused fog to rise from the river, creeping up the castle ruins. It almost instantly enshrouded the stairs they just ascended. It was so thick that young Justus couldn't see back to the bottom. Once they reached the top, Julius approached a man in an orange rain coat, leaning against the old iron rails that were covered with overgrowth.

"DHL?" Julius asked with a measure of expectancy in his voice. The man nodded and pulled a clipboard out from his still-dry rain coat and passed it towards Julius. The name on the contract read 'Julius Belmont'. The old man nodded firmly and said, "That's me. I see you're prepared for the incoming weather. Can I see the package first?"

The courier reached under his ankle-length raincoat where he had the box between his ankles. He took the cardboard box, a quarter meter in length, rectangular in shape, and handed it to Julius. The archaic hunter opened the box and pulled the whip out, inspecting it for a moment. Satisfied with the transaction, Belmont turned to sign the document and handed the DHL courier a tip in Romanian Lei for the three thousand stair round-trip hike.

A local monument guard approached Julius quickly, explaining that no weapons were allowed on the premises. Belmont was quick to produce a professional Bounty Hunter's License and weapon registration card. The guard simply asked Julius to put the weapon away so that it wouldn't scare tourists and so Belmont attached it to the belt beneath his pullover tunic. "I'm happy to comply, officer, I just wished to inspect my delivery upon arrival." The matter was settled and the guard began to walk away.

Almost immediately, as if on cue, the rain began to fall from the sky. It was a late-summer shower which drenched anyone at the top of the roofless ruins. People began to make their way down the stairs, slowly, and that's when Julius led Justus over towards a dark room-like corner which went straight downwards.

Julius glanced down into the brick pit and began to explain its origin. "This shaft was designed to hold prisoners by rope without any means of escape so that they wouldn't have to be guarded during battles."

"We're not going down into it, are we?" Justus said with a frown.

"No," Julius replied, adding, "but our destination is between several of these shafts, where archeologists wouldn't notice its existence. C'mon, I'll show you." Julius walked back to where he met the DHL man a few minutes ago. He glanced around, watching as the guard followed the courier down the steps. "He's going all the way to the bottom to make sure the courier makes it down, safely. We have time."

Julius began to climb over the iron bar opposite of the sheer cliff face, heading into a part of the rock in which the castle fortress had been built. There was a sharp dip in the rock-bed and Julius skidded downwards into the strangely cut slope. Justus followed obediently.

What seemed to be a strange cut in the side of the bricks along the outer hull of the fortress was actually a reverse-fitting manmade shape. Unveiling the stolen artifact, Julius placed the piece directly into the brick wall that was partially covered by the strange landscaping dip.

The side of the tower remains began to cave inwards as if part of the brick section sat on hinges. Julius pushed on it to help the mechanism from getting stuck. The two of them quickly crawled through the small square entryway and into the darkness. Julius reached into his supply sack and withdrew two flashlights, handing one to Justus.

Flipping the Mag-Lites to life, Julius began to creep down the crawlspace shaft for about 3 meters. The area opened up into an underground sanctuary just large enough for them to stand in. There were old rotted barrels and crates that barely survived complete decomposition. A facing wall was completely metallic and empty chandeliers hung from directly above their heads. They hung so low that Justus had to dip his head slightly when walking beneath them.

"It feels strange in here," Justus muttered.

Julius' eyes cut over, casting a sidelong glance at the young man. "When I came here in 1999, there were three skeletal remains of men who'd been hanged. They were guards and reanimated upon my approach, because I had the artifact in my possession. They provided me with quite a challenge. Anyway, it's right up here."

Julius Belmont took the artifact he'd used to get into the small chamber and pushed it into a bust of Prince _Mihnea the Bad_. Justus approached the deteriorating old statue and shined the light upon its face. "I recognize this man."

"I don't know if that's good or bad," Julius replied quietly, trying to wedge the artifact all the way into the statuette's hands. A mechanical pop was heard and the grunting sound of granite shifting against concrete followed. The elderly gentleman approached the metallic door at the end of the room and began to tug on it.

Justus quickly came to his aid and the two of them pulled on the metallic barrier with Julius placing his foot up on the doorway. Slowly but surly, the door opened, revealing a completely metallic room inside. Every wall panel had intricately carved designs on them. Belmont went back for the artifact, yanking it from the grip of the sinister looking bust then pocketed the stone key.

Both of them stepped into the chamber and Julius immediately placed his hands against a square tile on one of the walls. Oddly, the walls began to incandesce brightly. Justus squinted his eyes shut due to how bright the area was, finally opting to cover his face with his hand. Julius placed a firm hand on Justus' shoulder and said, "Just relax. This is painless. When it ends, we'll be in Dracula's main chamber. Be ready."

The bright walls finally dimmed in their intensity until the only light remaining was that of two Mag-lites. Julius blinked a few times to get his pupils dilated then pushed on the doorway, leaving the chamber. He suddenly gasped in surprise, blinking rapidly.

"What's wrong, old man?" Justus asked, following him out of the metal chamber.

"We're in the same place. I can even hear the rain outside, it didn't teleport us," Julius reported with dismay in his voice. "Perhaps it's for the best. Apparently the Seal is still in place and that means Dracula's Castle hasn't returned to the Arges Valley. It's not that I'm disappointed but I just had this gut feeling that Evil was back in the air and …I was wrong this time."

"Julius," Justus said, shaking his head slowly. "What about the weeds for my condition?"

"Quite right," said the aging hunter, crawling back into the crawlspace to leave the stone chamber. They reemerged back outside of Poenari Castle in the midst of an intense summer rainstorm. The recently evaporated Arges River poured from the clouds, decreasing visibility in every direction just beyond arm's length. As the two men struggled back up over the side of the iron hand rail, the rain immediately ceased.

"Short storm," Justus mumbled.

"Here, hold this," Julius said, handing the stone artifact to the younger boy. Justus took it into his hands and looked over the small stone carving of Radu the Handsome with a spike through his neck and out the top of his head as if to implicate that the person was impaled before having their likeness carved into the smooth stone. The guard returned from the stairs, casually walking back towards the iron bar from earlier.

Justus watched as old-man Julius approached the guard then asked him a question in a language that the young Englishman didn't understand. His eyes lowered back to the stone with the carving. Bell turned it over, noticing the tag on the bottom, but the words weren't in English.

The guard replied then Julius turned back to Justus and grinned. He took the artifact from Justus then handed it to the guard. Almost immediately the guard began to head down the steps, leaving the men alone. "What was that all about?" Bell asked.

"It has a marking on the bottom, tagging it as property of Bran Castle," Julius explained. "I said I found it and that one of the Dracula-Fanboy tourists must have stolen it from Castle Bran only to have dropped it here. He's taking it back down to have it returned or maybe to catch that DHL guy."

"Clever. Now we can concentrate on those weeds," Justus said in a bemused tone. The two moved around to the top of the tower fortress and all that lingered in the wake of its age. Julius quickly began pulling weeds out of the dirt that was caked up overtop of the brick ruins all along the exposed, roofless hallways of Poenari's remains.

Once Julius felt they had enough, he hopped down from some of the higher sections of the crumbling fortress. His tunic billowed in the wind, leaping to the ground, landing half crouched. Justus tilted his head and said, "Looks like you've still got it for an old man."

"It's in our blood," Julius replied, coming to his feet. "We've got enough to make a serum. Let's head back to England and find an allergenist who can make something out of this. Then we have to have it injected into you."

"Like an allergy shot, huh?" the boy said, heading for the stairs.

"More like a vaccine but an Allergenic Doctor would make the serum the same way he would make allergy shots from pollen," Julius explained. "I'm satisfied, so far. We got your weeds, I checked to make sure that Dracula's Castle wasn't accessible by means of Poenari, the way it was in 1999. It's how I arrived back in 2035, too."

"Didn't you say his body was exhumed in 1935?" Justus asked, quirking a brow as the two began their trek down the 1500 stairs to the bottom of the fortress.

"Yes, it was exactly 100 years to the very day his body was uncovered," Julius replied. "But I think that was more of a coincidence, because I was dealing with the reborn spirit of Darkness in human form. I recognize patterns of things that happen by a time table. This wasn't one of them."

As the two made it to the last step, they saw the Guard handing over the artifact to a FedEx employee who was walking back to his white truck. At the end of the lot, the yellow DHL van was pulling out onto the main road. The guard turned back towards the stairs, coming face to face with Julius Belmont and Justus Bell. "There seem to be a lot of Dracula Fanboys out there," the guard said in a Romanian tongue. "A man was found impaled on a spike outside of a valley castle that doesn't appear to be documented. The media started by announcing it was some sort of Gothic Role Playing crap gone wrong but now the story is turning into something to do with this new castle at the edge of the valley."

"Excuse me?" Julius asked, his eyes widening. "Did you hear this on the news?"

The guard shook his head slowly. "It's on the police scanners and I heard something about it on the FedEx driver's van radio."

"How far from here?" Julius asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Head south-west from here," said the guard. "You'll have to head over the mountains to get there. No one even recognized the castle or can figure out who owns it or how it got there. Pretty wild huh? The thing about it is the fact that someone mentioned that it resembled _original_ Poenari Castle but larger; they mentioned that in the news bulletin on the FedEx van's Radio."

"And you're telling us this, why?" Julius asked, tilting his head. "Because we mentioned Dracula Fanboys when we returned that artifact?"

"Indeed," the guard replied. "That and you're a Belmont."

Julius' eyes widened. "How did you know?" To his question the guard merely smiled and pointed to the bottom of the whip that was showing just beneath his tunic. "Bit of a fanboy of the Lore, yourself, I see," Julius added, trailing off at the end of his statement. The guard simply shrugged then began his ascent back up the side of Poenari, which rested quietly in silence. The old man turned to Justus then hooked a thumb back towards town. "C'mon."

* * *

A/N: _Okay, so I had a lot of background history to shove into your brains. I wanted to make the entire first chapter nothing but background so that we can get right into the action from here on out! Now, our heroes are going to investigate this strange castle… I wonder who else will be there? Possibly someone from the Japanese Paranormal group? Anything is possible but let's get to the next chapter and see what's probable, shall we? _

_Sorry this chapter was so long, lol. Let me know what you think, please? I'm curious to see if this story intrigues anyone. I'll post the next chapter and if no one really gets into it… well… who knows. I write for the reader; if there aren't any, I'll respond accordingly. ARE there any readers out there? Let me know!_

-Kit


	3. Chapter 2: It Begins

Chapter 2  
It Begins...

**The Ambassador of Turkey** stood outside of the Castle. He, along with a great deal of police officers, stood helpless outside of the massive citadel that seemed oddly erected in the center of a grassy valley. The police noticed an incoming carriage in the distance and one of the officers took a horse out to direct the horse-drawn traffic.

Once the officer arrived alongside of the carriage, he ordered the driver to turn around. The two argued for a moment before the elderly Belmont opened the carriage door and climbed the ladder up to the driver's seat. "What seems to be the problem here?" asked Julius.

The Officer pointed back towards town and said, "This area is off limits. This is a crime scene and we would appreciate it if you took a detour to your destination."

Julius furrowed those thick brown brows and simply said, "That castle _IS_ my destination." He then took out his ID and showed the officer his Bounty Hunting License which allowed him to carry a weapon through the countryside. The officer steered his horse closer to the moving carriage to examine the card then shrugged.

The uniformed cop offered just as simple of a reply to Belmont, saying, "The Castle is impenetrable, anyhow. We've already tried to gain entrance. I need you to turn around and leave, please."

"Listen, I'm part of the Romanian Paranormal department," Julius continued, flipping through his wallet to withdraw another card. He placed his thumb over the expiration date that severed his ties to the Bucharest University. The cop grew quiet for a moment then nodded his head slowly, waving for the carriage to follow.

Julius climbed back down into the carriage and sat back down next to Justus, shaking his head. "I had to lie to them. I said I was part of the Bucharest University Paranormal Department. It wasn't a complete lie, but my card expired years ago."

"Always figured it would come in handy again?" Bell asked.

Julius nodded; "Something like that." The two men gazed out the window at the massive complex of a completely fortified looking castle. The found the structure quite remarkable but it seemed to be in complete disuse. As they drew closer, Justus found he forgot about how much his body ached… He now focused on how incredible this fortified castle looked. '_The only thing it lacks_', he thought, '_is a moat with alligators._'

The carriage finally came to a stop in front of the courtyard gates. Julius and Justus exited the carriage quietly and one of the senior officers approached the two. "Who in the hell are these idiots and what are they doing at my crime scene?" he snapped at the junior officer who remained perched on the horse by the carriage.

There were laymen workers cutting the grass around the main gates for the police to set up a tent, using sickles and scythes. Regardless of it being the twenty-first century, these peasants were happily cutting the grass with methods from right out of the middle ages. Justus couldn't help but feel surprised that any part of Europe still lived this way. He couldn't believe that _ANYONE_ still opted for such ancient methods of living.

The lack of automobiles was one thing but seeing a handheld lawnmower seemed a bit over the top as far as the boy felt concerned. His attention snapped back to the argument posed by the senior officer. "I said to get these morons out of my crime scene, I don't care if they're from the University or not! This big-ass castle doesn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon; they can come back later!"

The junior officer quickly protested. "But, sir, we've been trying to get inside all morning because of the blood on the gate handle that matches the staked victim. Maybe this gentleman can show us how to get inside?"

"I'll blow a hole in the courtyard wall or blast the gate with primacord if I have to," shouted the senior officer, turning to Belmont and Bell. "You two stay with your carriage. I'll have a police escort lead you back to Bucharest momentarily when I can spare an officer. This is a murder scene, dammit." All Justus could hear was the man's nasty tone. The words were meaningless to him. Julius, on the other hand, simply frowned.

The senior officer barked some orders and one of the men took out a waxy strip of cord, placing it on the main gate. The yellow strip of Primacord10 was put into place and everyone moved back, averting their eyes. The loud snap of the explosion should have been enough to take the hinges of the deteriorating old gate but it didn't even seem to phase the entrance.

"Get some Primaline 85 out here," the senior officer groused, narrowing his eyes angrily. It was 8 times the power of the Primeacord10 and came in a light green plastic jacket. The cops rigged the cord to the gate and then moved back a bit.

"Close your ears," Julius said. "_Four hundred_ grain of measure per foot is enough to send that gate into orbit," he added. Justus did as he was told, covering his ears with his palms. The explosive crack of thunder caused a brief puff of smoke. Once it cleared, the entire group found themselves wearing dumbstruck expressions. The gate looked unscathed, minus black charring on the brickwork around the gate's edges.

A noise from above caused Justus to crane his neck. A news chopper flew overhead, its droning sound like that of a fly. The senior officer saw it, too, and looked angry. He immediately began to shout orders again, telling his men to have the chopper recalled, but he knew there was little he could do to the press up in the sky.

"May I have a look, officer?" Julius asked. The cop simply waved his hand as if to say he didn't care anymore. Belmont began to approach the gate, placing his palm against the locking mechanism. He then attempted to reach through the bars but for some reason, he couldn't push his hand through the open spaces. That's when he realized that a binding spell had been cast over the entrance which didn't permit his entrance. "Does anyone have a cellular telephone?" he asked, turning to the group of officers. "I know what's wrong here and I know someone who can get us into this fortress."

"Like who?" the cop asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Julius didn't have time to explain magic seals to this man. "Her name is Yoko Belnades; she's a scientist who works for the church, sir. I assure you, she's the only one who can get through this gate."

"Call her if you want," said the officer. "We'll be inside this castle long before she arrives." He then turned his attention to the other officers. "All right, men! Set up a perimeter and call in the bomb squad. I want to get into this castle by all means and I want the bomb squad present so when I get authorization, we'll already be ready to blast! Let's go!"

Julius turned to Justus, shaking his head slowly. "We'll have to wait for Yoko. Do you want me to put you on a plane back to London with the weeds we found? This may not be such a good idea after all. I don't want to assume responsibility if you're hurt."

"I'll be fine," Justus replied in a flat voice. "The only thing is, if I _do_ change tonight, I'll wind up ripping the doors off with my hands, if what you guys are telling me is true."

"No," Julius said. "Not even if you had paws and claws by the end of the night. That gate is sealed. Only a seal-cracker can get us in. …Either that or someone who can find clues to the seal in the area. However, I have a feeling that any clues would be inside the castle. This is it; I can feel it in my old bones. You'll need a way to protect yourself."

"We'll worry about that if we get inside," Justus replied in English. It wasn't a language that any of the cops knew well enough to understand the conversation. Justus then continued, "If the cops let us in, they'll have enough guns that we should be fine. Else we'll worry about finding something in there. How many of these old castles have weapons just hanging up on the walls for show?"

"Porcelain and ceramic axes don't do much," Julius replied with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. "Look, you're right. We'll wait until we see if we can even get inside before we worry about getting you a weapon. Besides, if you _do_ change, you won't need one."

"Right," Justus muttered, his soft visage growing sour with a moue of disgust. "I've got one hell of a headache. Patronizing me seems to be the key to making it worse. How long before your friend can show up?"

Julius lifted his left hand, signaling to Justus to stand by. He approached the junior officer on the horse and borrowed the man's mobile cellular telephone. Once Julius made the call, he began to talk in another language Justus didn't know. Either it was Romanian or something more Romantic, like Spanish or Italian. To Justus, a Romanticized language sounded every bit as exotic as an Oriental language. He just couldn't be sure.

Suddenly, Julius face-faulted. His left hand closed into a tight fist, so that his knuckles began to change to a white coloration. "Genya Arikado is _where_? Send that idiot back to Japan; I need you here to open this gate," he announced, clearly, in English. Justus simply blinked in surprise. Then it appeared that Julius repeated himself in _Japanese_ in a tone that was slightly more polite. Obviously well traveled, Julius continued his conversation, revering back to English. "…And we _all_ know that Poenari Castle wasn't _really_ the victim of a landslide in 1888. It takes a Belmont to level Dracula's Home and I need you to break this seal for me so that I can access the interior."

He paused then said, "_No_, I returned the stone. I don't think Radu's stone would work on this seal; there's no place to insert the stone and I'm not sure Dracula's brother had any real clout or power in this part of the countryside. Let's look at plan A; how long before you can arrive?"

A few moments passed before Julius frowned and then sighed. "It's overcast; raining sporadically. No." Another pause then a concise, "No." After several moments Julius smiled. "Really now? Arikado _can_ get us inside? Very well; enjoy Moscow. I'll let you know if this becomes an issue. I have other pressing matters on the side; I'm here on a _family_ errand. Yes, it's true. I found that I had a half brother, Jonathan. He passed away in 2038 before I met him; he and his son, Simon, were in a car accident… in _Romania_. Yes, I thought so too. Thank you, Yoko. Do you have an ETA on Genya's arrival?"

He nodded after her reply then thanked her and closed the phone. Tossing the device back to the officer, Julius turned to the group and, in Romania, announced, "A gentleman is on his way from the Paranormal department to the far east. Lucky for us, he was already en'route and should be here within the hour. He'll know a way inside, rest assured. He'll also most likely have special government clearance to allow him access; please do not get in his way… or mine, when we all go inside."

He returned to the carriage and the waiting began. Over the next hour, the clouds began to clear and the late afternoon sunlight covered the valley. Justus glanced at his wristwatch and finally said, "It's _four thirty_, Uncle J."

Julius nodded. "Yoko said he'd probably be here half-passed sixteen hundred hours. Arikado should be here any time." Just then, his ears perked and the two leaned towards the carriage window. In the distance, a limousine approached at a high rate of speed, jostled hard from driving at such a velocity through the grassy field. Belmont patted Justus on the shoulder and said, "Stay put. This guy is someone special; hopefully we won't cross paths very often, once everyone is inside."

Justus nodded and leaned back in the cushy seat, closing his eyes again. With the clearing of the sky, his body began to ache again. Somehow, he knew it would worsen by nightfall. A few moments passed and the sound of a car door being slammed caused Bell to stir just slightly. More fancy speaking in another language ensued. The conversation lasted several moments with the noise moving from in front of the carriage to a location behind the horse-drawn buggy.

Without warning, an intense blast rocked the carriage, causing it to overturn. Justus instinctively threw his hands upwards, against the roof but spilled from his seat just the same. He tried to look out through the cracked windows on all sides of the buggy but a cloud of dust and soot made it difficult to see anything. The cart had landed on its side, sealing the door shut.

Shouting followed the blast and yet Justus felt trapped inside the capsized carriage. Something sharp pierced the air, sounding a great deal like the crack of a whip, followed by several sporadic gunshots. By the time the dust settled, the area grew quiet. Justus removed his duffle bag from beneath the seat and took out a clean shirt. He placed the fabric against the cracked window and withdrew his father's Swiss Army Knife from his pocket.

Smacking the brunt side of the knife tool against the window finished the job. Justus then lowered the shirt, with the shards of glass, depositing it safely to the side. He shook his shirt out, balled it up and stuffed it back into his duffle bag. He used the bag to clear out any remaining shards in the window frame then tossed the whole pack up and out of the carriage.

Replacing the knife into his pocket, Justus then closed his hands around the empty window frame and pulled himself up and out of the carriage. The duffle bag sat on top, adjacent to him. Carnage claimed the field on all sides. The dead, bloodied horse, a grim mosaic of splattered gore, caught his attention first. Further out in the field, the Limo's front end crumpled down in the front as if an anvil had fallen upon the hood from an outrageous height.

The airbag had deployed, leaving the front windshield in spider webs. Blood in the cracks and on the dashboard suggested that the driver met an untimely fate. Several police officers lay in the grass, dead. At first glass, there was no sign of Julius, the Turkish guy or the other gentleman. The horses that had been in use by the officers were now at the edge of the valley, running for the hills.

Lying in their own blood, the townsfolk with the scythes seemed completely motionless. One of them had a farming scythe protruding from their neck, the handle jutting into the air. Justus shuttered hard, sliding down from the carriage. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since the blast; what could have happened _this_ fast?

"Uncle Julius?" called Justus. He received no response from his uncle _or_ the antagonist force behind the attack. Bell slid down over the rear axle, dropping into the grass with his bag. He shouldered the strap and approached the police officers, checking them for a cellular telephone. Only two carried phones, both of which were destroyed beyond use. Even their SIM cards had been crushed. Next, he checked for weapons.

A stranger to handguns, Justus found a forty-five caliber Taurus 24/7 semi-automatic pistol and some ammunition magazines on several of the officers. He examined the clips and determined that at least _one_ of the magazines wouldn't fit the weapon. The rounds were the wrong width and length. The gun they fit rested on the ground with the barrel crumpled.

'_Something with excessive force had to have caused this_,' Justus thought to himself. What could have happened in such a short time to have caused all of this destruction? Where were the attackers? Justus found his mind foggy from his inexperience with such situations. He collapsed unceremoniously upon his backside, there in the grass, with four magazines in his lap and a gun in his right hand. There were bodies everywhere.

The scant solace of his palpable relief came in the fact that his Uncle's body was _not_ among the gathered dead. Justus swallowed down his fears and quietly said, "I almost believe you now…"

Suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder. Filled with adrenaline, on wits end, Justus Bell snatched the wrist of the person and flipped them over his shoulder, hard. Even from his seated position, his athletic skills and sports training from high school made him a fairly strong person.

When he realized the person he'd just slammed was none-other-than one of the bloody Romanian people, he felt incredible guilt. They lay in the grass before him, stunned briefly.

"Citatea Lui Negru Vodă," the man wheezed. He had scraps and cuts over his face and horrible bruises on both of his arms. It seemed as though he'd warded off physical blows; the swelling purple marks were just coming to fruition on his flesh.

"I don't speak your language!" Justus cried. "I'm really sorry, man. I'm honorable mention on the wrestling team; I didn't mean to flip you over my shoulder. Do you… do you understand _I'm …Sorry_?"

"Lui Negru…Voivode…"

Justus blinked. "Wait, wait, Voivode, I know that one… Prince right? As in Dracula or whatever?" He'd just learned this yesterday…

"Voivode Dracula," replied the man, pronouncing the word, 'Dra-cool-yia' and ending on a groan of pain. "Citatea Lui Negru Vodă, Voivode Dracula." The man spoke slowly as if hoping that Justus would comprehend.

Justus became frustrated. "What are you saying? The City of Prince Dracula? Are you telling me this castle belongs to goddamn Dracula or something?"

The man turned his head to the side, coughing. Blood gushed from his mouth as an indication of his ruptured stomach. It became apparent that the man began losing consciousness. Death rattles emanated from his lungs with every shallow breath causing Justus to scramble away on his hands and knees.

"Christ, Jesus!" Justus exclaimed, stuffing the magazines into his back pockets. He picked up the gun and pointed it into the air incase of any approaching attackers. The man in the grass sucked in his last breath then groaned into his final exhale. Everyone around him now lay dead.

Justus' gaze lifted and that's when he noticed something else… '_The gate is missing_,' he thought to himself. Bell stood up slowly, keeping his eyes on the open gateway into the castle. It beckoned to him with a whisper on the wind. The howling gale turned to a snarl as if distant thunder attempted a conversation with him. Justus, now standing, backed away until he felt the cool metal of the Limo's passenger-side window against his hip.

He decided to check the vehicle for anything that he could use, like a cellphone or radio. Dashing around to the driver-side, he opened the door only to stop abruptly. The horrific scene of the driver took the young man's breath; an _arrow_ pierced the man's forehead, continued through his skull and stopped on the other side of the leather headrest. A razor sharp arrowhead with mild crimson stains had pierced the headrest. Justus assumed its partial cleanliness had been because the arrowhead passed through the stuffing inside the leather headrest.

The steel or possibly silver shaft of the arrow kept the driver's head tightly fastened to that headrest. The question of the day wasn't what kind of force could cause an arrow to completely penetration a windshield, skull and dense headrest… no, the question made far less sense than that.

It was a simple inquiry really… "HOW IN THE HELL?" Justus finally shouted. He knew he had to reach in, beneath the dead man's left leg and find the trunk release but… he _didn't want_ to do it because… quite frankly, a dead man's left leg guarded the release mechanism. That's when Justus realized that the radio still played soft jazz and the dashboard remained illuminated. '_Obviously the battery is connected; I'd better suck it up and reach for the trunk release and check for a car phone before the battery dies like everything else out here_.' He knelt to the ground, besides the dead driver and took a deep breath.

"Crap," muttered Bell. He glanced around then spotted the round button on the dash beneath the heat vent. Located higher than originally anticipated, Justus felt elated to know he'd not have to reach under the dead man's leg. The trunk popped ajar with a thunk. He then scrambled around to the passenger side of the limousine and opened the front door. To his dismay, he couldn't locate a car phone on the passenger dash.

Part of him knew the driver probably had a cellphone in one of his pockets but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to touch the corpse, to find out. He went to the back, opened the rear passenger door and began searching the limousine but no phone could be found. "Dammit!" Justus balled up his fists, stuffing the forty-five into his front pocket. "The only limo in the world that doesn't have a car phone in the back!" He pulled himself back out of the rear door and went to the trunk. "Great," Justus snapped angrily. "A spare tire and two road flares. Son of a…" He screamed the vituperative curse simultaneous to burying his fist against the metal of the raised trunk.

His knuckles never bruised. Obviously part Belmont, Justus hit the dented metal trunk again before snatching the road flares and slamming the now-welted trunk. Frustrated beyond belief, he returned to the front passenger door, reached in and snatched the keys from the ignition and threw them onto the seat. "You're worthless!" he shouted at the dead driver. Young Justus Bell returned to the shortened grass near the carriage and sunk to his knees.

After a moment to get at himself, the adrenaline surge came to an end and his stomach turned. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, wincing at the foul taste of bile. A moment of heaving ended on panting and the young man paused to spit a few times. He checked his wristwatch… _Five PM_… had half of an hour _really_ passed in what seemed like a few minutes? Had he blacked out, maybe? He couldn't be sure.

And yet… the strange beckoning from the Castle Courtyard still called to him on the wind…

Justus stood back up, wiping his mouth with the backside of his left sleeve. He re-shouldered his duffle bag and pulled the Taurus pistol from his pocket. He'd seen enough movies to know the basics and pulled the slid back, cocking the weapon. To test it, he pointed it towards the gate and gazed down the tri-notch targeting reticule. The trigger offered little resistance then the gun bucked hard in his palm. The loud gunshot echoed in the air for a moment; a wisp of smoke rose from the barrel.

"All right, Uncle J. I'm coming," Justus said, heading for the gate, passing into the courtyard…

* * *

A/N: _Aren't I a tease? Just when he's about to start trashing ghouls and goblins, I stop with a short second chapter! Well, I've posted three times and had one reply so… invariably, I've got to take a moment and see if anyone likes it enough for me to continue. Yeah, I double posted today. I actually wrote the first three pages of this chapter about six months ago. Tonight, I posted the first chapter, finished this one and now I've posted both chapters in the same night… yay. _

_I'm going to go ahead and update my latest Sly Cooper story… if anyone wants to see some vampire slaughter action goodness then please provide feedback. Contrarily, if you hate this, do let me know! I won't necessarily STOP the story for haters; I just want to know whassaup! _

_-Kit_


	4. Chapter 3: The Transformation

Chapter -3-

**Justus Bell clinched his right hand around the butt of the pistol**. For some reason, it didn't provide him with any relief. He had four magazines, not counting the one already in the weapon. His eyes shifted quickly from left to right, looking around the courtyard. Nothing moved but the area seemed lively with greenery.

Halfway across the square-shaped yard, Justus seemed to jump before his mind registered the noise that came from behind. He whirled around, pointing the weapon at the gate he'd just come through; his hands shook gently, causing the gun to tremble. He tightened his grip over the rubberized handle, keeping his arms fully extended like the novice that he was.

A voice from the far left startled him; again he seemed to jump before his mind could register that a noise broke the surrounding silence. He pivoted on his foot and pointed the weapon at an elderly gentleman with a torn sweater. Justus blinked a few times, lowering the weapon by forty-five degrees; he'd seen that in a movie or video game somewhere.

"Don't shoot me son," said the aging gentleman. He had reading glasses atop of his balding forehead. "You're obviously not a cop; you don't look like you know what you're doing with that thing. At least you have the common sense to point it at the ground, though. You're awfully jumpy, kid. Do you even know where you are?"

Justus licked his lips apprehensively, looking the harmless man over with some measure of relief. He took a long, slow breath then said, "In the middle of a crime scene in Romania. Did you see what happened out there?"

"I'm afraid not," said the man. "I heard a noise and sound of cops shouting orders. I came out of hiding just now, but you don't look much like a cop."

"They're all dead." Justus remained concise, still in a measure of shock. He'd never seen a bloody corpse. Young Bell made a disgusted face and lowered his voice. "Those images are still fresh in my mind," he muttered in a sour tone.

"I see. Police officers are here but… they're dead?" The man's rhetorical question caused Justus to grimace. "Sorry, son. I'm just trying to make sure I have the facts straight. This appears to be a finely recreated version of the citadel once owned by Lord and Prince, Vlad Tepes the Third. It's strange, I've lived in the cottage adjacent to this castle for years and I've never been inside. We came through the main gate and suddenly, you could see the entire town. The overgrown courtyard vanished before my eyes as if I'd gone back into time."

Justus offered a dubious smirk. "Two minutes ago, everything outside of that gate was flat. Fields of grass as far as the eye could see. Among the cops, there were farmers using _scythes_ to cut down the grass in front of the main gate. The cops were setting up a field tent when everyone was ambushed. There are no towns around here within visual range. And who the hell is 'we' for that matter?"

"You're wrong," said the older gentleman. "Go look out through the bars of that gate and prove me wrong. The name is James Johnson. The girl I came in with was Molly… Fields, I think. Yes, Molly Fields. She was about your age, give or take a year. I've not seen her since we were separated." He paused then pointed to the gate. "Go on, take a look, young man."

Justus turned about and walked back to the gate, crossing the courtyard. He peered out between the massive iron bars, keeping the gun pointed at the ground. The young man gasped loud enough for James to hear, halfway across the square yard. He glanced over his shoulder at the old man who simply shrugged. Justus turned his gaze back to the bars, looking through them. Large spikes were anchored in the ground, rising up from the soil at a height of about six feet. Every police officer and field worker that had been killed now rested upon those spikes.

Their fresh blood ran down the metallic spines, which lined a cliff-like precipice overlooking an archaic feudal town. On second look, the village appeared to be European in design. The soft howl of wind could be heard, adding to the sensation of being at the top of a cliff. A light fog rolled through the town, below, shrouding it just enough to feel spooky.

"What the _hell_ is that?" Justus demanded, pointing the gun at the gate and the image beyond. That wasn't there! What the hell is going on; this is _bull sh-_" Justus suddenly found himself cut off by a curious shrieking from within the castle. He glanced up at the windows in the turrets at the far corners of the courtyard. They appeared dim and so he lowered his gaze to the dimly illuminated entryway at the far end of the yard.

Upon reproaching Johnson, the old man lifted his finger. The boy paused; James came besides him and turned to stand directly adjacent then lifted his arms out, palms together and his elbows bent. "Hold the weapon like this. If you keep a relaxed grip, your muscles won't quaver with strain. Right now, you've got adrenaline in your blood so your body is shaking with the raw effects from it. The more you stay relaxed, the more accurate you will be with that thing. It doesn't look like any revolver _I've _ever seen, though."

"…Revolver?" Justus held the gun out as instructed but cast a furtive glance over at the man. "Who the hell uses a revolver anymore?"

James quirked his brow. "Umm, everyone I know? Unless you use a Winchester or Remington. And that sure doesn't look like a rifle to me, son."

Justus studied the old man carefully. "You're acting like we're in the mid-to-late eighteen hundreds. You older than you look or something?"

"Give it a rest. I don't even know your name yet," James retorted. "Now, point that thing at something and pull the trigger. Let's see how your aim is, boy."

Justus took a slow breath, pointed the Taurus at a potted plant on a pedestal, twenty-five yards away. He lined up the metal nub at the end of the barrel with the groove at the back then pulled the trigger. The gun jerked upwards in his hands but he kept it from lifting more than an inch or so. To his pleasant surprised, the ceramic pot shattered, spilling soil over the pedestal. The plant dropped to the marble steps.

James offered a grin. "See? Easy, ain't it? You've just gotta relax. So what's your name, sure shot?"

"Justus Bell. You _do_ realize it's the year twenty – forty-four, right?"

"Yeah," James replied in a sarcastic tone, adding, "And don't forget, there's a field out there; tall grass as far as the eye can see. Well Justus, you can call me James. Since you've got the gun, a forty-five caliber by the sound of it, I think I'll follow you around for a bit. If you don't mind, that is."

"I… could use the company," Bell replied, looking the man over again. His choice of clothing reflected the late 1890's or possibly early 1900's. Justus couldn't be sure, though. He turned his gaze back to the potted plant. Suddenly, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "What in God's name is _that_?"

James turned back to the potted plant then frowned, backing up until he was being Justus. The lone plant, lying on the marble, began to pick itself up as if it were a creature out of a movie. Its stringy roots seemed to hold it up as if using them for legs. The large bulbous part at the top, shaped like an ear of corn, tilted forward at ninety degrees then parted in the center, like an ovular dog's muzzle. It began to maneuver towards the two.

Justus didn't know how to react. Still in shock, his first reaction was one of near amusement. "What is that thing? A little shop of horrors, anybody?"

"Pardon? Why don't you shoot it?" James asked.

"It's a walking plant," replied the young man. "I should take this back to Europe and sell it for a mint. Wait; what's it doing?" He watched curiously as the plant quickened its pace, approaching them with an aggressive body language. It snapped its beak-like mouth, gnashing angrily as if it sported teeth with which to do so. "Am I really seeing this?" Justus asked, shaking his head. He lifted the gun; the plant continued to close on them.

"This is definitely a first," Bell added, keeping the gun trained on the approaching plant. "Hey, I bet it's an herbivore; would that make it a cannibal?"

James backed away from Justus, slowly. "Just… shoot it, will you? Now would be a fanciful time, young man."

Before Justus could react further, the plant literally leapt at him, mouth gaping wide. In that split second, he could see several rows of shimmering incisors. The plant's leafy appendages rippled as it floated through the air, diving at him. In that instant, he could actually _smell_ rotted meat on the plant's _breath_. His eyes fluttered, his ears flickered and his mind registered the flash of a weapon. His hands felt something buck against them and the plant's offensive dive suddenly reversed in course.

The strange creature flew backwards, dropping to the ground about two meters from Justus Bell's feet. It thrashed about on the ground for a moment. Strange hissing noises came from the plant then it locked up and froze. As if on cue, it began to wither before their eyes. James peeked over the boy's shoulder, watching as it writhed in agony for several seconds then froze completely. Seconds later, the creature began to visibly wither, turning to ashes as if right out of a movie.

Upon closer observation, the mouth-like head had been shattered, leaving small green residue on the concrete blocks in the surrounding area. James patted the young man on the shoulder and said, "Nice job, _sure shot_. That's two direct hits; pretty good for a greenhorn. Let's hope your luck holds out. C'mon, I don't want to stay in this courtyard."

Justus lifted his eyes to the dusky looking sky and frowned. "I thought it wasn't even _six_ _o'clock_ yet? Look how quickly the sun set, James. Say, the fullmoon was _last night_ right?"

"Are you kidding?" James asked with a measure of surprise. "Son, this is Dracula's castle. It's been a full moon every night, since Molly and I came here. I'm not even kidding. And if you think I am, you'll see for yourself."

The boy frowned. "Dammit."

"Problems?" Johnson placed his hands on his hips, walking passed the youth and heading towards the entrance on the other side of the courtyard.

"It's possible," replied Bell. "I've got it on good authority that the full moon will present a problem for me. I've got this condition, see. I've been ill over the last few days. Oddly, I've felt pretty damn good since the attack. I think the adrenaline is keeping the pain at bay."

"Or you're about to turn into a werewolf," James said casually. He stopped at the entrance, looked back at Justus then smiled. "What…? I'm just… you know… just kidding; c'mon."

* * *

**The inner sanctum bore a fresh coating of slick scarlet; **the obviously wanton gore a far cry from simple paint. The grim mosaic had been splattered across the floors and occasionally decorated the walls. James seemed surprised to see the mess, citing that it had not been present less than an hour ago.

Justus, quick to do the math, eased the old man's worries by explaining, "My Uncle, Julius Belmont, is somewhere around here."

"Belmont?" The old man had a great deal of surprise in his voice. "As in the clan of vampire hunters? The ones that branched out into the Schneider family, the Morris family and the Belmondo family?"

Justus quickly became agitated. "Y-yeah, something like that. He says he traces me back to some blue crescent something-or-other guy named Cornell. Heard of him too?"

James tilted his head then politely shook in a negative answer. "No, I'm afraid I've not heard of 'Cornell.' Why do you ask? What is his relevance?"

"I don't know, exactly," said the boy. They continued down the hallway, following the trail of blood. "Uncle J. doesn't know a great deal of his story, either." They made a right down the next hallway, continuing to follow the broken bones, blood and stench which Julius left in his wake. "I think he had an adopted sister or something but I don't remember all the details. It was, like, back in the mid 1840's so, you know; anyhow, Cornell's bloodline has made me the way I am.

"Then, in 1980, Julius' father bore a bastard son who grew up away from the family due to an inability to … I don't know, maybe he couldn't pay child support. That woman was apparently related to Cornell, or maybe my grandfather's wife. I'm not sure if my father was the first person to have this sickness or if his father struggled with it. Hell, I didn't get to ask him all those questions. My old man, Simon _Bell_, died in a car accident in Romania, a few years back. Now everything is screwed up." Justus took a long, slow breath then signed. "Complicated crap, huh? Illegitimate kids, mixed bloodlines, changes in surnames; it's a real Goddamn mess – tough to follow."

"Understood," James replied. "Did you seriously just say that Julius and his half-brother were born in 1980?"

"Yeah, sixty-four years ago – why?" Justus glanced back at the strange man again.

James looked back to the hallway and shrugged. "n-Nothing, never mind. Perhaps you and miss Molly Fields have more in common than I'd initially realized. At any rate, my good sir, please lead on. It appears your Uncle has not only left us a trail of metaphorical bread crumbs, but it seems he's rather an accomplished warrior. We'd do well to find him and stick together."

"Yeah, I feel the same way," Justus muttered, adding, "He told me he fought _Dracula_ when he was only nineteen. The more I see weird stuff going on in this castle, the more I'm starting to believe him. It's eerie. I think my adrenaline is starting to wear off though; I'm suffering from a serious lack of Advil."

As the two continued down the hall, the blood trail became less intense. Sporadically, piles of human skeletons could be found in pieces on the floor, however. James glanced back at Justus and finally asked, "What is 'Advil,' Justus?"

The boy rolled his eyes, half assuming that they simply didn't market the drug by that name in this part of the world. He thought nothing of it and recited the medication's trademark slogan, "Its advanced medicine for pain, old man. Say, if you're from this area or whatever, how do you know English so well?"

"Because I'm not originally from these parts, obviously!" James chuckled. He then said, "I studied at Oxford and…" The old man was suddenly interjected by a loud crack of something sounding like thunder. The noise tapered off into a low rumbling noise and yet no light flashed in the windows. They approached the nearest window and peered out into the starry sky. "I don't see storm clouds; what could that have been?"

"Thunder doesn't need a cloud to exist," Justus explained, adding, "That crap is caused by hot and cold air, clashing. I don't remember the detailed but I just graduated from high school last year. I thought you said you studied at Oxford. You don't know what causes Thunder? What was your major? Mathematics?" The noise happened again.

Because of their proximity to the stone-cut window, they both realized that the sound came from further within the castle and _not_ outside. The two looked at one another then continued on their way, following the trail of defeated goons left by Julius. Within a few minutes, Justus began cursing under his breath at the pain in his joints and lower back.

James cocked a brow then furrowed them in reply to his distaste. "Is there truly a reason to utter such vituperative nonsense?"

"It hurts, you asshole." Justus immediately paused and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you; I'm just… physically sick or something. My lower back is killing me and now my left hand is starting to ache terribly."

"Look," James said.

"Yes?"

Old man Johnson shook his head then _pointed_ at Justus' left hand and repeated, "No… _Look_." He motioned to the fact that Justus' fingernails were disproportionately long compared to those of his right hand. The boy blinked in confusion. He put the gun into his waistband then held his hands up, side by side, to a nearby torch which burned brightly from a hook on the wall.

"What is going on here?" he exclaimed in a sharp voice of protest. "Look at my Goddamn hand! Is this what he was talking about?"

"Who?" asked the older man.

"Great Uncle Julius said I would become a _werewolf_ and… and… _son of a bitch_!" he shouted. The last three words echoed off the large stone corridors, taunting him with their quixotic change in tone. He tried to ball his left hand into a fist but couldn't close his fingers into his palm because of the length of his new fingernails. They appeared thicker than normal, like claws. He turned his hands over, gazing down at his palms then offered a sharp gasp. "What in the hell is happening to my fingertips and palm?"

Before his very eyes, the skin was beginning to split. A dark coloration seemed to be present beneath the skin. Several layers of flesh peeled back with ease, to release the thick black padding.

"It's similar to the paw of an animal. Open your mouth, Justus."

"What?" The boy gawked at him. "My _mouth_?" Regardless of his argument, he did as he was asked and parted his lips then dropped his jaw."

James staggered with something akin to fear at what he saw. "Mother Mary, please help us." Justus' expression seemed blank, full of confusion. After a moment to let the panic subside, James said, "You've gained rather _distinct_ incisors, Mister Bell. Run your tongue along the top row of your teeth, then the bottom row, if you please."

The boy did so and seemed alarmed. There were spaces between his molars now; his jaw seemed to be elongated somewhat. His canines were long and pointed on the top and bottom row of his front teeth. He quickly glanced around, trying to find a wall mirror but couldn't seem to locate one. Instead, he turned and punched the wall. To his surprise, it didn't even hurt.

At first he assumed that the other pains in his body masked and possibly even trumped the pain in his fist from striking the wall. He then snatched the gun from his belt and placed the barrel against his new left _paw_.

"No! Wait!" cried Mister Johnson. "Don't be foolish!"

"I can't think clearly…" Justus trailed off, dropping the Taurus on the ground. It clattered on the stone floor, clattering out into the middle of the hall, where the center plate was tiled in marble. The boy dropped to his knees, below the window, burying his head between his knees. "Jesus Christ, it _hurts_…"

"Where, Justus?"

"_Everywhere!_" the boy exclaimed in anguish. The pain in his lower back lessened in intensity, now in a near-fetal position but seemed to be by-far the most painful of all his ailments. His left arm lanced out and he began to scrap his new claws across the stone floor before rolling onto his side. His legs were tucked up to his chest in the shape of a ball and tears stained his cheeks. He grunted long and loud in pain as if trying to lift a granite boulder but in the course of that extended breath, his voice tone changed. The grunt rolled back into the deeper section of his throat, becoming a feral sounding growl.

Immediately blinded by fear, James Johnson snatched the torch off of the wall and broke into a run. He disappeared down the hall, leaving Justus alone in the dark. His footfalls faded into the distance until silence deafened the teenager.

Justus Bell swung his right arm out, sweeping his fingers across the stone until it touched the bloody marble slab. The coagulated trail of blood, possibly from the flesh of the undead itself, felt cold and sticky against his fingertips. Finally, he found the gun in the dark and lifted the barrel to his head, seeking an immediate relief from the incredible agony of his first transformation.

He pressed the barrel against his head as hard as he possibly could then squeezed the trigger. However, the trigger wouldn't depress. He tried with all of his might and all of his adrenaline but the trigger would not move. The harder her grinded the metal barrel to his head, the less he realized that the sliding mechanism was what kept the gun from firing. Hot tears gushed from his eyes, dripping off of his chin and onto the granite section of the floor.

The gun fell back to the ground and he reached his paws to the top of his head where excruciating pain lanced through his skull. At first it felt as though someone had lifted him up with their fingers by means of his eye sockets but then the pain shifted dramatically. The drastic, agonizing sensation shifted to the top of his head. It was tenfold of any migraine he'd ever experienced.

The pain was so severe that he only now realized he'd gone without taking a breath for the last two minutes. His body's natural instincts kicked in and he gasped for breath with the next stabbing sensation. The pain came in waves now, assailing every inch of his body. His paws felt something obtruding from his hair. His fingertips closed around the soft, fuzzy flesh. His mind, attempting to faint into Morpheus' wasteland of oblivion but unable to bridge the gap, could not fathom that he now gripped at his _new_ _ears_.

The triangular protrusions upon his head seemed to be covered in a light coating of blood or some measure of plasma. The gooey substance coated the fresh coat of fur that grew up through the pores of his flesh in the last few minutes. He opened his mouth to scream but the most foreign of noises filled his ears… the howl of a wolf…

The beating of his heart pounded loudly in his head, deafening him. Finally, unable to cope with the incredible pain of breaking the seal in his blood for the very first time, Justus Bell fled into the depths of unconsciousness…

* * *

A/N: _Okay, now our protagonist has ungone the transformation. Neat. We also see a dash of history leading up to that point and at least one creature. Now, FINALLY, I can get to the action. You know, the part where our protagonist rips everything to shreads like a feral incarnate of the deadly caged beast that he is? Yeah, like that. _

_I love action sequences. I love describing the fighting scenes, the way a beast as kickass as a werewolf might rip some zombie's arm off, you know... THE GOOD STUFF! As soon as our hero wakes up, he's going to be so utterly fueled with adrenaline that ANYTHING in his way WILL get turned into kibble. _

_So, what'cha think so far? Also, I'm VERY OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS. If you guys want to see a little romance between Justus and Molly or if you want to see James Johnson get disembowled by the bad guys, JUST SAY SO. That's how I roll, yaw'll. _

So, let's hear some ideas, huh? _Thanks_!

-Kit


	5. Chapter 4: The Countess

Chapter -4-  
Countess _Báthory Erzsébet_

**Justus' respite from pain was short lived.** The world slid back into focus, sharper than before. The acute clarity felt mind boggling. Every color seemed brighter; the darkness in which he lay felt clear, as if he only lay in a patch of light gray shade. Every crevice of the concrete tile beneath him had well defined lucidity; his eyes perceived every grain of dust before his nose and he discerned the temperature from his _whiskers_ before he could perceive it from the padding of his paws.

Justus Bell sat up on the floor and propped himself against the wall. Ethereal moonlight from the window above illuminated the dust particles in the most dazzling way. The dust swirled about; the speckles' graceful dance became highlighted by its tantalizingly slow descent to the ground, several feet from his face.

The moonbeam reached diagonally from the window, cascading through the abyss until it splayed across the marble flooring at the center of the hallway. The frail white illumination sparkled on the tiles, causing the marble section to incandesce in the most brilliant way.

The world around him seemed hyper-focused; his psychological senses felt clear and his heart seemed relaxed. His sensory perception felt newly attuned in a way that only an LSD user might comprehend. While far milder than an acid trip, Justus felt that every conceivable perception caused a powerful sensation; every image and sound caused some sort of subtle smell, taste or feeling – both physical _and_ emotional. The powerful first-time sensation of auspex felt _incredible_.

Justus _felt _and sensed _everything_ including the grain and texture of the very fabric of his tattered clothing. His flesh and fur relayed signals to his brain that informed him on the most subconscious level – torn, splayed threading covered his torso. The cool clasp of metal upon his stomach blended into a firm, smooth contour of well-aged leather encircling his waist. The belt metaphorically seemed to merge into denim which tapered off into shredded threading over his upper thighs. An additional weight of ripped garment hung from his ankles where the remaining denim clung; a frayed rag at best.

He reached outwards and closed his velveteen padded palm around the handgun on the floor. He drew it close then pushed it into his belt. The room-temperature metal felt odd. A different mass and density from his belt buckle, it now felt secure at his waist, providing a tingling feeling against his body. It's shape, a sharp right angle, felt comfortable half buried against his fur. The Taurus 24 / 7 forty-five caliber handgun remained snug against his body.

Without so much as thinking, he reached down and captured the threadbare, dilapidated remains of denim. His clawed fingertips were furry and yet muscular. His newly dexterous digits clinched at the fabric and his arm drew back, tearing the remains from his ankles without so much as straining in the slightest. Justus released the useless garment to the floor and stood up.

While the cotton boxers expanded without tearing, conforming to the muscular contour of his hips, thighs and crotch, they felt awkward and tight against his left leg. Equally, the remains of his jeans were beyond comfortable, unable to encase the build of his crotch and hips properly. He used his claws to cut through the denim belt loops then the inseam at the side until the remainder of his jeans dropped to the floor. His belt now touched his fur and flesh directly providing fresh new sensations.

He quickly reached his left paw down to the back of his thigh, rolling his padded fingertips along the contour of a foreign lump in the cotton boxers. As his fingers followed down the hemmed fabric, he realized that a tuft of fur fanned out behind his left leg. His eyes widened and his head lowered to acknowledge the fact that he now sifted his fingertips through the fur of his _tail_.

Justus Bell paused, gawking in disbelief. '_I'm a …werewolf_.' The words failed his vocal cords but seemed almost loudly spoken, reverberating through his mind. He came to the realization that he'd been holding his breath this entire time and exhaled; redrawing in a deep, calm lungful of air.

The inhalation felt reinvigorating and allowed him to taste the fresh air from the window above. The aromatic sensation of the air subconsciously suggested to him that his body was a fair distance above sea level; Dracula's castle rested at the top of some sort of cliff or hilltop. He could _feel_ the barometric pressure and sense the altitude in his joints.

The newly transformed beast began to shake his head. Slowly at first, the urge to quicken the pace led into his torso instinctively joining the action. The revitalizing tremor that had started at his neck continued down his spine until it ended at the tip of his tail; Justus shook like a wet dog, stimulating every nerve ending in his body. He felt wide awake and alert. Everything about his form felt electric to him; for the first time, Justus Bell felt truly alive and his instincts tingled as they were _designed_ to do.

Everything felt oddly _right_ about this transformation; it was in his blood and his spirit. The five-foot ten-inch young man now stood at an even six foot tall. His redesigned ankle perched upon mighty, wide hind paws, making balance seem natural. His powerful forearms and furry, human-esque hand structure felt tight, starting at the forearms.

Everything felt innate. His obstinate attempt at a mental acclimation to his new strength fell to the wayside in his mind. Everything felt so perfectly natural about his new body that it seemed difficult to grasp the simple concept that _Justus Bell was stronger than before_.

The post-transition felt so intrinsic, instinctive and inherent that the nineteen year old boy _didn't_ know his own new strength. He stood up straight, stretching his torso and joints as if he'd just spent eight hours in bed. He arched his back, stretched his legs then returned his gaze to the dim surroundings.

Justus' eyes zeroed in on gorgeous satin drapery decorating the other side of the hallway. It lined the granite bulkhead opposite of the window, stopping every ten meters for a pedestal, containing an armored suit. The unused armor, silver in coloration, glinted – even in the dim illumination – due to its cleanliness. The nearest well-preserved metal suit also had a flowing cape at the neck piece, hanging to the floor. The fashionable cloak, black on the outside and red on the inside, appeared at a glance to be nearly six feet in length.

Stepping out of his worthless, torn shoes, Justus approached the armor and removed the cloak from the neck of the cuirass section. He drew it about himself and secured it over his shoulders with a broach. The clasp resembled a Crucifix, fashioned from heavy, dense platinum. His eyes lifted, raking over the attractive suit of armor. He wondered if it would fit him. Ultimately, he decided that the new, inhuman structure of his joints would _not_ allow him to don the protective suit.

Justus drew the cloak closed around his body and then lifted a hooded section over his head. The hem of the hood came to his brow but didn't sit perfectly upon his brow. There were two pointy lumps at the top, where his ears perched above his head-fur. Beneath, his tattered shirt clung diagonally over the cross-section of his torso.

He removed his cotton boxers, turned them around so that they were reversed, then pulled them back up his legs beneath his cloak; he readjusted them for a proper fit. He now wore them _backwards_ with the unbuttoned section in the back to allow for his tail to exit through the unfastened space. It felt a bit more natural, although a slightly larger waistband would have been even better. For now, the undergarment did what it was designed to do: conceal the intimate details of his new body.

Justus sniffed at the air then glanced over his shoulder. Obviously the old man ran off, down the hallway. He could be tracked if necessary. For now, it was best that the old man find somewhere safe to hide. Justus turned his attention back to the trail of fallen evil that dotted the corridor.

He collected the remaining four magazines of ammunition from his tattered scraps of clothing and slid them into the belt, at the flattest section of his lower back. Satisfied and feeling prepared to continue on his journey alone, Justus tightened the broach and cleared his throat. The beast turned towards the now-faint scent of his elder bloodline and began to follow after Julius Belmont.

Within minutes, the hallway opened into a magnificent, imposing foyer. Two winding staircases reached to a loft on the left and right side of the grand hall. As Justus walked out into the large area his ears perked and his body began to pivot. His natural and instinctive reactions occurred before his mind could perform the routine of analytical logic…

His mental capacity, while seeming fresh with this new sense of clarity, finally managed to catch up with his instinctual physical reaction once his eyes landed on the door he'd come from. He'd leapt forward…

A gate had fallen from in the upper part of the wall, landing squarely upon the ground with a thud. The metallic bars prohibited his return to the hallway from which he had come.

The fur of his tail bristled, along with the thick covering of hair upon the back of his neck. His eyes narrowed and his body tensed, ready for anything. Justus gasped in an almost euphoric way; adrenaline filled his blood, simply at the behest of his mind and instincts. The sensation of a dark presence filled the air, leaving a foul taste on the roof of his mouth. The werewolf's ears lay flat causing the hood to conform better to his head.

He turned back towards the duel staircase and now faced the rotting husks of undead corpses. They bore armor with a logo unknown to him. The archaic Roman Empire soldiers drew their swords and shields like the trained crusaders that they once were. "Slay the heathen!" one cried in a raspy voice. Each of five men quickly charged Justus. His ears perceived a horrible noise: their metallic breeches and boots, shaking at the joints and stomping upon the floor. Justus' eyes crossed from pain due to the audible assault.

Beneath the hood, the furry beast winced; his arms lifted from beneath the cloak and his fists opened, displaying fresh virgin claws. They glistened like the season's first snowfall. His arms tensed and his paws reached out. As if trained by a combat master, Justus Bell surrendered to his new instincts.

His claws met the brittle, archaic body-plating of the first soldier. Justus arched his elbows, using his forearms to brush away his attacker's hands. The shield and sword parted and his claws plunged into the enemy's torso. He crossed his wrists, forcing his paws to pass, one over the other, completely eviscerating the undead guard's sternum. His razor sharp nails diced through ribs, snapping some and slashing through others. The undead being's spine began to curve backwards with the weight of his shoulders and head.

Everything played out before Justus' eyes as if it happened in slow motion. The first attacker, split open at the chest, began to buckle at the knees. His momentum kept his lower body moving forward while the weight of his upper body and armor caused him to peel back like a banana. His spine, the remaining section of the fruit's peel, caused the top portion of the banana to topple back, parallel to the bottom half of the metaphorical fruit.

He felt hyper-focused on the battle itself. The clattering of a sword and shield across the granite floor hardly registered to Justus; it sounded as though the metal collided with the ground at the bottom of a deep well. The sounds, far away and deeper in pitch, made the moment feel rather surreal.

With his wrists now crossed, Justus turned his paws over then drew them out as if performing a breaststroke under water. The maneuver slashed through the spine of that first enemy, breaking him into two separate halves. The legs and stomach dropped to the left of Justus' feet while the top portion of the body fell to his right. The second attacker came directly behind the defeated leader of the pack.

The werewolf's lengthy fingertips met the next opponent across the belly, disemboweling the undead legionnaire. Gelatinous splotches of coagulated blood splashed across the granite tiles, resembling brown jelly mixed with tar. He diced the attacker's rotting intestines like a warm slab of pepperoni. The rotted chips of freshly diced meat spilled into a pile of quivering wedges upon the floor.

Justus brought his arms down, inward, then back up in the technique of a duel uppercut. His claws turned the flesh – covered with brittle, worthless metal – into giblets which lifted into the air. The macabre gore scene seemed complete; square chunks of putrefaction soared above the group. The decaying flesh then rained down over the remaining three monsters.

The cloak billowed out behind Justus Bell, displaying his muscular, furry contours to the room; the beast turned into a hard pivot. His arms reached outwards gracefully and his dilated eyes shrank for an instant in reaction to a flash of lightning. The room turned incredibly bright… Justus' arms met slight resistance as he spun about with his paws extended towards his opponents.

The hyper-focused sensation of crawling time faded and the world around him sped up. As his pivoting spin maneuver came to its conclusion, the blinding arc of lightning in the windows began to fade from the night sky. His eyes quickly readjusted just in time for him to see three decapitated heads, complete with rusty helmets, fall from their respective bodies.

An iconic crash of thunder coincided with the bodies and heads striking the floor, drowning out the shrill noise of clattering armor against smooth granite. A splash of deep garnet covered the hall and the rumble of thunder tapered off, leaving a palpable silence. Justus gasped his first deep breath since the beginning of the attack, only to realize that the entire fight reached its climatic conclusion. It all ended before he could blink _once_. He drew his paws up in a battle-ready stance but nothing remained to offer resistance.

His mind raced to analyze this situation with rational logic; the return of his sharp mind resulted in a gasp of surprise. He lowered his light-mocha gaze, unable to fathom the fact that he'd caused this carnage in the split-second it took to blink his eyes one time. Vertical obsidian slits over a circular amber palette; those orbs flitted about the area to check for other attackers. He scanned the staircase then sighed in relief, content to be alone.

"Jesus, what have I become?" His voice stunned him, echoing off the large hall and high ceiling. Slightly deeper and a wonderfully melodic baritone, Justus once again gasped in surprise at the end of his audible inquiry.

Not expecting a response and unable to sense another presence in the room, Justus found himself startled when a voice replied from out of thin air. He whirled around to face the direction of the speaker who explained, "You've become your destiny, child of lupine. You are the sixth-great grandchild of Cornell – my childhood friend."

Justus' eyes landed upon a translucent specter resembling an anthropomorphic lion. The ghostly apparition continued. "I am Ortega. I foolishly allowed myself to fall into lure of darkness. The presence of Evil will test your faith and your willpower in an attempt to cull your soul. He will sully and defile your sense of humanity and corrupt your spirit if you allow it."

Justus had never seen a ghost before and felt skeptical. "Am I hallucinating? How did you arrive here?"

"I am trapped here in the form of a wraith. I foolishly committed suicide by throwing myself from atop the clock tower. Dracula's minions collected my broken body and placed it into a coffin. I was deposited in a mausoleum, beneath the castle. The sarcophagus rests at the castle's foundation. Only by removing my body from its tomb and taking it out of this castle can my soul become free of these walls. All that is left is what you now see of me before you."

Justus glanced around; the rest of the room remained as it was with the slain enemies strewn about the floor. He decided that he wasn't dreaming this and so he returned his attention back to Ortega. "Who _is_ Cornell? I know nothing about him."

"Cornell was a werewolf. He learned to break the magic seal on his blood and was able to transform from human to his lupine form at will. He once shattered the lives of mortal people and, out of guilt, raised a female survivor from his youthful, wrath-filled mistake. He grew to love her as a sister and, one day, Dracula abducted her to lure him.

"He rescued the girl but did so by trading his abilities for her safe release. Dracula got what he desired: …Cornell's power. Unknowing of the damages that he'd caused, Dracula was able to be _fully_ resurrected in eight short years. Cornell, without his powers, became unable to fight and so he lived out his days as a normal human being."

Justus blinked uncomprehendingly. "But if he became a normal human being, why did I become a werewolf?"

Ortega descended to the floor and walked towards Justus. His aura seemed to radiate with a collection of strange colors. Justus, inexperienced in knowing the shades and their meanings, simply looked at the bizarre aura with intense fascination. Ortega placed his mass-less orange-furred palm upon the young man's cloaked shoulder.

"Because it's in the blood, encoded in what you humans refer to as… _DNA_," said the spirit. "The seal on those powers expired at the turn of the millennium. Whether triggered by time or by Dracula's defeat, at the turn of the century, I cannot be sure. All rumors of previous ancestors having this curse prior to Dracula's defeat in 1999 are completely fabricated – those with the curse in their blood had urges, dreams and minor symptoms at best. However, Julius Belmont's half brother had a startling surprise on his twentieth birthday, the one year anniversary of Dracula's defeat."

Justus' jaw dropped. "So it _was_ the woman with whom Julius' father committed adultery?"

Ortega smirked. "Hardly; very few Belmonts allowed themselves to commit such a grave sin." His eyes dipped furtively, as if sizing up the young man-beast. "No, Julius' father was divorced by his wife. She simply didn't understand the Belmont super-human power and feared him. Years later, they remarried; their love conquered her insecurities. His depression during the divorce caused him to act out; he allowed himself to be seduced by a woman who felt lonely. She'd roamed without a mate due to her minor symptoms of lycanthropy. However, her desire to be loved became satisfied by the unquestioning love of her offspring. She no longer required a mate; she simply wished to be needed.

"They parted ways after several months of dating," Ortega continued, adding, "I'm sure he found it strange to see his temporary girlfriend barking at the moon, scratching his back with her nails and howling from time to time. While she couldn't experience the true transformation, the spirit of the wolf which inhabited her blood still made a powerful impact on her personality, boy. She passed away in 1998, struck down by Dracula's werewolf killers. The eighteen year old boy, Jonathan, escaped harm but was rattled by the occurrence. His son, Jonathan Simon Junior, was given the name _Simon Bell Junior_ on his birth certificate. Changing the last name ensured that the family line would be safe from attacks like the one that he experienced; yes, he was present when she was slaughtered. The rest is history that you're already familiar with."

Justus had a sudden epiphany but quelled the shock by clinching his paws into fists. "How do you know so much about me?"

"Your _father_ told me in 2038." Ortega offered a grim smile. "It's all making sense now, isn't it?"

Justus backed away slowly, waving his left fist through the orange-furred hand upon his shoulder. His own paw passed through the ghost's forearm. "He died in a car accident in Romania."

"Put the facts together," Ortega replied flatly. "He died in _here_ in _Romania_. Do you really think that was a coincidence?"

"Sh… shit; I… Goddamn it all; my mother will be crushed." Justus shook his head vehemently and said, "Is he a ghost, trapped in this castle, too? What happened? What is the truth, Ortega?"

The werelion folded his massive arms across his overly-sculpted chest, leering at the teenager. "He learned that Dracula's minions sought out Cornell's bloodline, starting in 1998. They wished to secure their Master's safety by slaughtering the foes of those capable of his destruction …which Cornell _could_ have caused. Not only that, it was their hope that Cornell's line could also restore Dracula just as Cornell's power had done in the past. Simon came here to investigate the disappearance of _his_ father. He found that Dracula had been defeated and never returned to the realm of the physical. He met me and spoke with me to learn. He told me about you and about his wife, Tina. Satisfied that the Solar Eclipse Citadel held no answers, he moved on to continue his search for Jonathan S. Belmont Senior. By nightfall, minions from the castle followed him and attacked him. They caused his fatal automobile accident. His soul found its way to heaven. He is gone. I watched from the Clock Tower in dismay. I feel jealous; I'm trapped here for all eternity. He's lucky."

"He's far from lucky." Justus frowned thoughtfully, opened his stance and secured his cloak at chest level from within, using his right paw. "Does that mean that this castle is my natural enemy?"

"Aye, you could say that," Ortega replied. "Find your great uncle, m'boy. If he dies, no one can protect Cornell's line. If you come across my grave, I beg of you to recover the body. Take it outside by any means possible. You do _not_ owe me this favor but I ask of it anyhow."

Justus nodded slowly, feeling his bristled tail beginning to settle. The fur over his back lowered and, as his facial muscles relaxed, his ears perked up, under the hood. "You've provided me with invaluable information; I owe you that favor. Watch over my body and I'll do my best to locate yours. Thank you and farewell."

"I'll do what I am able," Ortega replied. "Now go, concentrate on safeguarding Cornell's blood. When you leave this castle, ensure that your offspring know how to protect themselves; consequently, they'll live longer. However, warn them of the dangers of Romania and of the Romanian folklore 'hero'." He lifted his powerful forearms and crooked his fingers to gesture quotation marks, when speaking the last word.

"Thanks again," Justus replied, adding, "One last thing… Where do these stairs lead?"

The werelion narrowed its eyes, glaring at Justus for lollygagging. "To unnecessary sections of the castle; the Tower of Science, the Vestibule of Despair, the Atrium of Autumn Souls… _The Throne Room_, the Master bedroom and guest rooms… Dracula is dead and his soul has been placed into a man with a noble heart and a good spirit. God is giving his soul a second chance with a new life in purgatory. When Soma Cruz dies, he'll ascend into the ranks of heaven. Dracula is _gone_ so there is _no need_ to remain in this castle. _But_ that doesn't mean he can't live on through the evil, wicked ways of others. He is also _not_ the only Vampire of infamy."

"How did this castle get here?" Justus cast his gaze back to the recently reanimated undead soldiers.

Ortega clinched his fists but he knew the boy needed a brief history lesson to know his place in this land. "A Royal vampire, related to another Transylvanian voivode. Prince Stefan Batory. He wasn't the threat; _she_ is, however. Condemned to live the rest of her life under house arrest in her bed chambers, she fell into torpor." He stood there, between the staircases, now several feet from Justus. "Assumed dead, four years later, her body was removed from Cachtice Castle in Hungary. Dracula freed her of her stonewall tomb in the spring of 1615, where she gathered virgin females. She created a literal bloodbath, drank and swam in it – thus rejuvenating herself – and served as Vlad's countess for a number of years. Eventually defeated by a Belmont and Belnades, she fell back into Torpor from the mid 1830's until some fanatic virgin female sacrificed herself to awaken the Countess. Elizabeth has been revived and now reigns as the countess of _this_ castle; she is the one who raised it. I suggest that you leave before Julius crosses her; he's an old man. Now, find your Uncle and leave. Even if you do _not_ find my body, the blood of Cornell is your first and foremost concern. Now, go."

The werelion, tired of the dialogue, faded before the young man's eyes. Justus stepped over the bodies lying on the floor and headed through the doorway on the first floor, between the two large staircases. He came to a substantially sized room, standing at the loft section. He slid his paws through the cloak and grasped the railing. The banister creaked gently in protest of his weight but it held. Justus peered over the side, seeing his great uncle down below… it was too late; Julius was at a standoff against an attractive female vampire.

Despite his second instinctive reaction, Bell's gaze landed upon the copious canyon of her well-displayed cleavage. "Elizabeth!"

Justus's cry came in unison to his Great Uncle down below, who shouted the name, "Carmilla!"

The woman glanced above Julius, spying the cloaked figure, high up on the loft. She smiled, drawing her gloved hands to her buxom chest. "My, I've not been called Elizabeth in many centuries! No, the times have changed and so have I; I am also Carmilla, or perhaps simply _Camilla_ will do. Let's leave the name _Elizabeth Báthory_ in Hungary, Carmilla in Austria, Millarca Karnstein in Styria… Yes; you both may refer to me as _Vampira_!" She then turned to a doorway behind herself and said, "Oh, Laura, please come out here, my love."

A servant girl of nearly the same physical age approached the countess with haste. She knelt before her mistress, placing her cheek gently against the countess' hip. "Yes, my beautiful Mistress?"

Vampira slid her fingertips through the girl's hair with a smile. "Laura is the only virgin I could not kill; I fell in love with her, you see. Her purity protects my physical body. As I could not deflower her flesh with my own, she became my vampiric servant, forever a virgin. We _can_ be defeated in battle but our true love protects us from _eternal_ separation through Final Death." She then smiled at Julius and said, "Strike us with your whip; you will see we are invincible when together."

Justus placed his foot upon the railing then hurdled it. His cloak billowed in the wind and his hood flew back from his face. His body instinctively dropped to a crouch, absorbing the impact with grace and style. He arose slowly, baring his lengthy incisors at the women. His eyes narrowed and his ears lowered, lying flat upon the top of his furry head. A guttural growl filled the base of his throat, reverberating in a deep tone. Laura immediately looked afraid. She her face into Vampira's thigh and closed her eyes tightly with glistening tears forming at the corners.

"J..Justus?" asked the old man, disappointment in his voice.

"Yes, it's me." The werewolf's reply was clean and deep in tone. "I require clothing; mine no longer fit."

Julius turned back to the women and snapped his whip. "So, you're older than the legend of Carmilla, are you? No matter, Countess… It simply makes your destruction far more ironic. You see, I obtained a second whip in the Chamber of Sorrows; _The Hunter's Whip_, used by Nathan Graves." To his words, the woman scowled. She'd been defeated by that very whip; the look on her face told Julius that she did, in fact, remember. He then said, "Do you know why this whip has the power to defeat you? The satire and irony amuse me, now that I understand who you _really _are. The viceroy of Poland whipped you before locking you in your room, did he not? Do you remember? It happened around 1610, wench."

The countess barred her fangs and hissed. "I was royalty and he was forbidden to strike or kill me. And yet he whipped me; confining me to my room kept me from proving to the royal family that I had markings upon my back. I demanded to be freed from my room for four years, so I could rightfully prove my unjust injuries!"

Julius twirled the second whip then snapped it. "The Hunter's Whip is the very whip that struck you that night. It all makes sense now: that's why Nathan Graves defeated you; he wielded The Hunter's Whip. Are you ready to fall before it for a third time?"

The achingly beautiful vampire's scowl melted into a thin smile. "I told you; with Laura at my side, we cannot be physically harmed. She is my mate and she does my bidding. I am her mistress and she is my submissive little angel."

Justus began to lose his patience. "I'll tear them apart with my claws; ready your whips, Uncle Julius."

"Defeating us will not be an easy task!" Vampira chided. She slid her fingers down through Laura's silky hair, curling them through the locks of the kneeling woman's bangs. The pair began to levitate and their physical form frosted over with an icy coating.

Justus drew his claws and jammed them into the crystalline structure, causing the icy orb to crack. Julius followed suit, striking the ice sculpture with each whip, held in his left and right hands. Soon, the levitating ice shattered; it was empty and hollow inside. A wisp of steam emanated from the shattered orb of ice. The evanescence dissipated into thin air.

"Uncle Julius, we should leave. I learned that my father met his fate in an attempt to leave this castle. I was advised that our safest bet is to leave. I also learned that Dracula's soul is _not_ here and cannot be resurrected. It's protected by the good will and nature of …some guy; his last name begins with a 'C'… That woman we just saw; she's the _only_ one here."

"You saw the spikes outside?" asked Julius. "Impaling wasn't _her_ way. Something more sinister is going on here. Innocent people have died and it's my duty to fight. I've not passed on my bloodline, surname or The Vampire Killer whip. It's still _my_ duty. I'm not leaving until my job has been completed."

"_I_ am a Belmont!" cried Justus. "If you are truly that stubborn, let me finish this. If you die, you won't be passing on _any_thing. Please, Uncle Julius. My father died; I don't need you getting yourself killed, too. My mother and father assumed you were just crazy but now I know better… I'll take over your ideals."

"Justus, shut your mouth," Julius replied in a flat voice. "You don't know the first _half_ of fighting evil. You didn't even believe in it, yesterday."

"And now look at me!" Bell exclaimed. As their argumentative dialogue continued, their distracted attention allowed for them to become surrounded. Outside the chamber, scores of zombies filled the hallways. Moments later, thundering noises filled their ears. They paused, glancing first at one another then to the doorways at either side of the hall. Both of them saw the zombies at the gates and both were immediately confused as to why they didn't enter the large room.

"Why won't they attack?" Justus asked in a whisper.

"I don't know," Belmont replied. The rhythmic, thundering noise continued, growing in intensity. Julius then added, "I have a feeling they're there keep us from leaving. Something tells me we're about to find out what's going on."

The werewolf's incredible instincts alerted him seconds before Julius sensed the new presence. They both looked up at the loft, high above. Justus had come through that very door several moments prior but neither would be able to reach the lofty balcony without a ladder. Something began to emerge from the doorway above…

"It's the boss of the keep," Julius muttered. "Certain sections of the castle are protected by a powerful esoteric presence. I refer to them as the boss of that section. Are you in any condition to fight?"

Justus nodded slowly, baring his large animalistic fangs. "I feel incredible. Let's take this thing."

The old man snapped his whip, causing Justus to back up a few steps. "Don't be an amateur, boy. Just watch my back while I fight this thing, whatever it is. If you got yourself killed, your mother would have a fit. I'd rather fight vampires and every monster in this castle than to see her angry." Belmont's dry humor caused Justus to smirk in reply.

Justus narrowed his eyes, looking back up at the balcony. His eyes zeroed in on something inscribed in the stone, beneath the railing. "_Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate,_" he repeated out loud in a poor rendition of an Italian dialect.

"Not too shabby," Julius remarked casually. "It means 'To all who enter: Abandon all hope,' in Italian. It's also written atop the gates of Hell, according to Dante."

"Oh," Justus replied, backing up to try and better look over the balcony to the doorway. "I didn't read The Divine Comedy, I read the internet to get the run down; it wasn't the most exciting piece in school."

The rhythmic thunder of noise continued, drawing ever closer. Julius snapped the left, then the right whip yet again. "In the land of Hades, on the shores of Acheron along the river Styx, you'll find Persephone, Charon, the three headed dog named Cerberus, Minos, Aeacus and Rhadamanthys. Yeah, I didn't know Greek mythology until I sat down and read into it to draw paranormal parallels a few years ago. I'm not going to hold it against you. While I was in the Chamber of Sorrows, trying to secure The Hunter's Whip, I found something interesting."

"Do we really have to talk about this now?" Justus cried, inadvertently growling out the last several words of his inquiry.

The older man refused to shut up. "It was a puzzle, where I had to connect information on Hades and other mythological Greek beliefs concerning Hell. Then I had to tie in a section about Dante's Divine Comedy and finally, there was a section about Milton's Paradise Lost. Either Dracula thinks he's Lucifer, or they're in league together."

"Uncle Julius…" Justus muttered, seeing a shadow appear on the ceiling, emanating from the lofty doorway.

"Anyhow, I solved the puzzles," continued Belmont, "Grabbed the whip and took off down the hall. This rather well-assembled Frankenstein-looking-character crashed through the wall and began pursuit."

The werewolf drew his claws from the cloak once more and readied himself. "As in… the creation of Victor Frankenstein by _Mary Shelly_?" Justus exclaimed. "It's a fictional book!"

"That's what you said about Bram Stoker's Dracula," Julius retorted. "And now you're in his God-forsaken citadel, Justus."

Justus watched a glowing light illuminate the hallway as if someone held a torch. A massive shadow spread across the ceiling, above them. "Wait, I thought Frankenstein is just misunderstood and people are afraid of him. Isn't… isn't he supposed to be a swell guy?"

"Human fear inspired murder and other atrocities," Julius mused, keeping his whips ready. "It affected the humanity of that beast. Furthermore, Dracula took pity on the humanized attempt to create The Undead and so he's corrupted that thing's brain. I usually like to avoid that thing and continue on my way."

"I don't think we're going to be so lucky this time," Justus replied, seeing the ducking head of the beast emerge from the doorway. Frankenstein did _not_ look like Boris Karloff, Glen Strange, Robert De Niro, or any other Hollywood rendition. "And here I thought that it was supposed to be an allegorical story about the Industrial Age and," Justus sort of stammered, seeing the impressive monster step onto the balcony, holding an old fashion lantern. "I mean, you know, at a time of dramatic advances in science and technology. It's supposed to be about how the creation rebels against its creator. It's supposed to be seen as a warning that the application of science can lead to unintended consequences."

"This isn't the goddamn Terminator Movies," Julius muttered. Born in the year 1980, Julius knew cinema from his childhood and teenage years. He watched the massive, seven foot beast and gripped the leather handle of both whips, tightly. "Get ready, Justus. Stay back unless things get bad."

Bell rubbed his claws together, as if sharpening scissors against dagger blades. "I'll stay away from your whips, but I'm going to tear him apart, stitch by stitch."

"He had stitches a few hundred years ago," Belmont rebutted, adding, "I don't think he has them anymore."

The monstrous form of Frankenstein brushed a mighty left hand across the banister, bringing about its destruction. The debris hit the floor, far below. The creature leapt from the loft, lifting its powerful arms. Opposite from the grace employed by the werewolf, Frankenstein slammed into the ground, causing the flooring to crumble. The granite slabs of floor tile gave way and the scientifically constructed undead being sank to its waist.

Julius wasted no time and began whipping the heathen across the face and forehead. The barrage of attacks only angered the monster who pulled itself from the floor by its powerful arms. It lifted its colossal right hand and then immediately closed its fingers around The Vampire Killer whip. With an impressive tug, Julius went flying head first into the monster's capable grip.

Frankenstein lifted its left hand, seizing Julius by his torso as if the aging man was nothing but a mere rag doll. This atrocity, seen by the young werewolf, inspired both fear and wrath simultaneously. Julius shook his head, flailing his arms. "Keep back!" he shouted to his nephew.

Justus did _not_ listen and pounced. The cloak billowed behind him; he spread his claws wide. They sank into the flesh of the monster's left arm, causing it to drop Julius. The older Belmont rolled away and placed his hand against his ribcage to check for broken bones. Meanwhile, Justus Bell clung to the monster's massive bicep.

Frankenstein swatted him away like an insect. The werewolf, launched across the room, bounded off the wall then dropped unceremoniously to the floor with a bellow of pain. It sounded frightfully close to the cry of a dog shot in the leg. Justus' high pitched cry of agony caused Belmont to scramble across the floor towards him.

The creature had other plans, swiping its other arm outwards. Julius Belmont tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop with a grunt, just a few feet from his nephew. "You hardheaded… son of a… Are you all right?"

Justus sat up, putting his weight against his muscular right arm. "Yeah; he swings a mean left hook. You?"

"It takes a lot to hurt a Belmont; I _told_ you to keep back," Julius replied quickly, getting to his feet. He still had both whips and snapped them loudly to show their 'host' that they were ready to fight again. "Now, watch and learn, newbie," he said, dashing off towards the creature once more. He opened his arms then brought them together hard, wrapping both whips around Frankenstein's neck. They snapped about the monster's throat, one above the other; the Hunter's Whip coiled clockwise and clung beneath Frankenstein's jaw, while the Vampire Killer wrapped _counter_clockwise just above the collarbone. Between them, two corroded metallic bolts jutted from the monster's pale gray flesh.

Julius, even in his sixties, was still a Belmont. He placed his right foot against the enormous being's stomach and walked right up his enemy's torso. Julius then kicked his leg upwards, placing his foot directly beneath Frankenstein's chin. The monster's head snapped upwards, biting into its tongue and shrieking angrily. Julius followed through with a loose somersault. He landed upon his feet then tightened his fists and jerked on the whips, causing Frankenstein to lurch towards him.

Off balance, the creature fell forward – his equilibrium stolen by the professional hunter – and landed flat upon its face. Young Justus was back into the fray, literally pouncing like a fox. He plunged his claws deeply into Frankenstein's back in an attempt to break the spine but the density of the monster's flesh and bones seemed far different from the undead warriors back in the last hallway.

With a calm sort of grace, the monster pushed itself up on its arms, and reached for the whips at its throat. Frankenstein couldn't uncoil both at once because each one was wrapped in a different direction. Instead, the monstrosity tugged them with its powerful grip. Julius toppled forth, coming nearly face to face with the fallen monster.

The creature, however, lost interest in Julius for the moment and brought its right arm back, slamming its elbow into Justus' shoulder. "Goddammit Frank," the lupine hissed only to be struck again in the very same way. Frankenstein reached its left arm back, grasping the teenager by the hood of his cape. Blood ran down the monster's left bicep from the earlier attack. It left a smear on the floor, adjacent to the hole it had created previously with its feet.

Justus found himself thrown head over heels. He slammed to the floor on his back and skidded to a halt, looking up at the ceiling. His head rested on a square, wooden pillow; part of the broken banister that came from the balcony. The indignant wolf lay upon his tail, the hood now draped over his left shoulder. The broach remained fastened over his upper chest but the fabric had been stressed and was slightly torn around the clasp's pin.

"I told you to just stay back," Julius grumbled, getting to his feet. Frankenstein quickly arose, throwing its head up against the old Belmont's chest. Julius crashed back to the floor from the uppercut-like head butt. A trickle of blood eked down over his mustache and dribbled over his lips. He shuttered at the metallic tasting liquid then flinched again when a massive grayish hand snatched him by his ankle.

"Vile humans!" bellowed the antagonistic degenerate. Frankenstein stood fully erect; the monster's arm darted upwards, holding Julius inverted by the left leg. The hunter's long-coat, jacket, shirt and hair reached towards the ground. Somehow, he still managed possession of both whips by their handle. He jerked his right foot back then struck Frankenstein in the wrist but the monster wouldn't let go. Julius pulled with all his might on both whips but strangling Frankenstein proved beyond the realm of possibility.

Justus rolled over and sat up, shaking off the dazed sensation. He reached beneath the cloak and retrieved the forty-five caliber pistol then cocked it. He pointed the weapon high, at Frankenstein's head then fired. The first round exploded from the handgun and struck the monstrosity directly in the forehead. The powerful, manmade freak received a high power round just above its eyes; its head snapped back in response.

Justus fired again, cracking the densely skinned creature's skull. Two traumatizing head wounds, side by side, covered the monster's forehead and yet it didn't release Julius Belmont. Justus Bell, feeling frustrated, sprinted towards the towering creature, while it seemed stunned. He leapt into the air and buried the claws of his left paw in Frankenstein's right shoulder. He lifted the pistol directly to the creature's mouth and shoved the barrel passed the row of rarely used teeth.

Justus's paw tightened, squeezing off round after round into the back of the monster's throat. After the sixth round, the bullets penetrated the nape of Frankenstein's neck. The rounds, however, missed their mark of severing the spine. The creature threw its right arm outwards causing the claws to slip from the flesh. Belmont flailed about, hanging by his ankle while Justus fell back to the floor. The gun clattered noisily over the granite, temporarily abandoned.

"I know how to beat him, stay back!" Julius called to his nephew.

"Don't you understand the concept of team, old man?" Justus shouted in reply.

"No, you _have_ to stay back," Julius replied then said, "Watch what I mean and you'll see. Don't let him touch you, just watch!" He arched each of his wrists and quickly withdrew the whips. Frankenstein, waiting for just such an opportunity, hurled Julius across the room.

The monster's wounds were fairly substantial. Blood ran down its left arm, right shoulder and now the back of its neck. Julius sat up and snapped Vampire Killer, wrapping it around one of the corroded metal prongs on the side of the being's throat. He dropped the second whip and thrust his free fist into the air.

From out of the ceiling, lightning lanced down as if originating in the heavens. The electricity joined together with Julius' fist, forming a bolt that connected to the high ceiling. It disappeared for an instance then flashed once more, striking from above. It collided with Julius' elevated arm and traveled through his body and into the whip. The powerful electrical current had been summoned from one of the magic spells he'd learned from Yoko Belnades. The lightning transferred intense current into the metal prongs that protruded from the side of Frankenstein's neck.

There were two connectors, one going directly to its brain and the other leading down its spine, to its heart. They were the old metal plates used to bring the reconstructed corpse to life, centuries ago. Now the direct line of current stopped the monster's heart, cold in its tracks. Julius dropped to his knees in front of Hunter's Whip while Frankenstein jolted back from the powerful electrical magic.

The creature spun about on its heel; the current threw it back into the doorway on the far end. Frankenstein bowled down a group of the zombies with its intense weight. The behemoth creature lifted its right hand which seemed to quaver in its struggle to rise. After a moment, the arm dropped and the zombies began to back away, giving Frankenstein space…

The monster's mouth parted slowly and, in a raspy voice, said, "I cannot feel my beating heart; yet the pain in my chest grips me just the same. Will I go to Hell? Gehenna? Will they call it the Netherworld or perhaps Naraka? Will the gates of Jahannam – the land of Di Yu greet me? Will I sail the river Styx?" Julius hobbled into the doorway, towards the fallen, babbling monster.

Belmont, having re-secured both whips, used the backside of his wrist to wipe the blood from his mouth. "Perhaps it's more akin to Sheol, Hades or perhaps you may simply call it _Tartarus_, old man. The only way for you to find out is for me to remove your head. If I don't, one of Dracula's minions will simply revive you."

"I am not Lazarus, human."

Julius coiled the whips on the belt hooks at either side of his hip. "And the minions of Dracula do not wield the power of Christ, Monster."

Frankenstein began to lose consciousness. "Am… am I the monster? Perhaps _your_ race… perhaps _they_ …are the… monsters." Frankenstein's eyes began to fluttered shut and its breathing came to a stall.

"With the loss of your humanity," Julius began, kneeling down over the creature's head. "You have become the monster. Anyone is capable of being a monster; they only need to lose touch with their heart, soul and humanity. And, any monster is capable of redemption. I'll spare you your head to show you that I am no monster." He stood up then glanced around him at the undead beings, two meters away.

"Justus, come here," Julius called. The werewolf passed through the doorway, glancing at all the zombies in the room. They remained still; their glassy gaze cast off in all different directions.

Justus approached his great uncle, closing his paws into fists. Beneath the cloak, his tail bristled up, nearing the undead beasts that stood in a semi-circle around Julius and the fallen creature. He reached his arms up, clasped the hood and drew it over his head once more. "Yes, Uncle J?"

Julius glanced up at the cloaked figure and frowned thoughtfully. "You've not changed mentally. That's good. Use your claws and sheer off the metal bolts on either side of his neck. Without them, the minions of Dracula cannot use lightning to reawaken this… poor bastard." Belmont stood up, drew one of the whips from his belt then snapped it at the nearby zombies. "They'll stay at bay until they perceive us as a threat to Frankenstein. I think they only fell back because he wanted them to, for a moment. Hurry. Then we'll run back into the main room and go down through that hole in the floor. We can't fight every one of these things at once. Even by attrition, it would take more arms and more weapons then we have and I don't wish to be overcome by their vast numbers."

"Very well," Justus muttered, nervously watching the zombie hoard as they shifted about, remaining idle, in his peripheral vision. He opened his fists and parted the cloak with the backside of his paws. Doing as he was told, the werewolf suddenly jerked his arms high then brought his paws downwards in a well-placed strike. The feral claws sheered off the metal bolts above Frankenstein's left and right shoulder. The dense pieces fell upon the floor with a metallic clang.

Belmont snatched both pieces, pointed back to the room where they'd just fought for their lives and shouted, "RUN! To the hole!"

Justus glanced over his shoulder; his eyes widened and yet his dilated pupils shrank. The hoard of zombies suddenly burst forward, closing about them quickly. Justus and his uncle sprinted through the doorway and into the main room. Across from them, the other doorway began to spew the undead corpses intending to block their escape.

Justus drew the cloak tightly about himself and tucked his tail between his knees. He applied pressure to his ankles, leapt upwards and dropped through the hole in the floor. Julius Belmont dove through it next, head first. In each fist, the old man held a metal bolt belonging to Frankenstein. Together, the two dropped into the dark; the fall felt bottomless.

Something tingled in the back of Justus' mind. His instincts took over and without so much as thinking on the action, he gasped for breath then held it in his lungs. Almost instantaneous to his quick action, his body plunged into deep, cold water. The audible world changed to a blurry, distorted noise followed by a thunderous, garbled sound. Somewhere in the back of the lupine-man's mind, he knew that Julius Belmont just joined him in the water.

Justus struggled; his lungs began to ache from holding his breath. He pushed his furry arms outwards and kicked his legs but, in the darkness, it was difficult to tell which way would take him back to the surface. His options were to hold his breath as long as possible and hopefully float to the surface. '_I've fallen a far distance; I'm too deep to hold out much more,' _he thought. He argued with himself that floating might take _longer_ than he could hold his breath. His mind felt disoriented and his instincts simply told him to gasp for air to ensure his survival.

The last vestiges of his shocked, spinning, logical reasoning called the situation hopeless. His mind raced. '_The weight of my submerged fur and cape could possibly be pulling me down instead of allowing me to float_.' Now he didn't know what to do… Panic set in…

His heart pounded furiously, using up the last of the oxygen. His lungs ached, full of carbon dioxide. His muscles began to burn from the lack of fresh air in his bloodstream. The werewolf's consciousness wavered and reality faded. The depths of the cold water swallowed him whole; would it become his tomb?

* * *

A/N: _Readers, I want to know what YOU want to see: should I go into detail about the romance between Carmilla and Laura? Maybe a sexy feeding scene? Let me know if anyone is interested in seeing that at some point._

_If anyone is enjoying this story, then please let me know you're out there! I love getting ideas and opinions from readers on how to progress. I don't always use them but sometimes, just bouncing ideas off of the audience helps me to come up with things. Although, I do sometimes use a reader's idea and run with it to the fullest. _

_Oh, and if you think Julius will save his nephew from this? Nope! I'll tell you right now, the werewolf's instincts allowed him to gasp for breath before hitting the water. Julius Belmont hit the water and has the breath knocked out of him. So he needs saving, too. _

_I was thinking of different ways for our heroes to survive the water. Anyone have something to contribute? _

_If so, let me know! Sorry the chapter is so long… I was having fun writing it and got rather carried away! There will be lots of fighting, gore, action and ass kicking from here on out! Also, we'll find out what happened to Molly Fields and James Johnson really soon. Oh, and who wants to see more Frankenstein? What about Alucard? Anyone?_

_-Kit_


	6. Chapter 5: Monsters Ball! jk

A/N: _A reader who reviewed the last chapter said they wanted to see Yoko Belnades and Genya Arikado make an appearence. I wasn't sure if I was going to include Alucard and I'd already placed Yoko in Moscow... but, due to reader demand, I've decided to bring them in. Of course, 9 years have passed, so everyone is a little older now... Anyway, does anyone have anymore ideas? Something you want to see? Let me know in a review! _

_-Kit

* * *

_

Chapter -5-  
Cursed Savior of the Damned

**Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, **known better as 'Alucard', closed his eyes, knelt in the throne room. He placed his fingers against the floor tiles, allowing a miasma of images to flood his brain. A moment passed in his mind; memories of Miren – who nearly died of internal bleeding in the mid-to-late nineteen hundreds… then, he saw an image of George Florescu – the only man to see Dracula's body in 1931 before mysteriously falling to his death. That happened thirty-eight years later while trying to ascend the mountain side of Poenari Castle. The esoteric beauty of his face contorted slightly, experiencing a memory of Trevor Belmont's masculine visage.

Adrian shook his head, clearing his senses. He ran his fingers back through his silver hair then glanced over at an attractive woman in her early thirties. "You didn't have to come here; Moscow is far safer," he told her.

"Mr. Arikado, I had no idea you worried about my wellbeing!" The voice belonged to Yoko Belnades. "Hammer worried that _you know who_ might show up. He wanted to be on location, just in case."

Alucard turned his attention back to the floor, muttering, "He's not here; Soma will not make an appearance; he wasn't signaled. Also, I've decided 'Genya Arikado' won't live much longer. It doesn't take long for the Japanese Paranormal agency to figure out why one of their members isn't aging. This will be the last living mission for 'Genya Arikado' but I appreciate that you are still protecting my masquerade."

Yoko approached the hauntingly beautiful man and placed her palms against his soft, boyish cheeks. "You're injured; why didn't you tell me?"

Alucard closed his eyes once more, able to feel the metal on her left hand, against his right cheek. The symbolic band upon her finger, complete with diamond mount, felt comfortable in such proximity to his soul. The power of love was a boon on his archaic heart.

For the first time since she'd met him, she saw him crack a slight smile. She wasn't sure if it was because she touched his cheeks or something further. A soft blue light emanated from her hands, doing her best to heal his hidden, physical injuries.

"So," he said softly, "You've married Hammer?"

"Engaged," she replied in a soft voice. "Did you know that a descendant of the Florescu family is here? She doesn't even know it; she didn't find the castle… it found _her_. I had a premonition and a vision when I came into the castle, half an hour ago. I've not seen any ghouls or goblins, though."

Alucard nodded then said, "Molly Fields. She's like the rest of the Florescu bloodline; very susceptible to the Tepes-family evil. If I were to inadvertently strike her or _any_ Florescu family member, it would have three times the impact on them. She's in incredible danger; their blood is cursed – it's as if Dracula wants to kill them from beyond the grave. George Florescu's death is what broke the seal I had created to keep me asleep. That's why I awoke in 2031, one hundred years to the day, after his death."

Yoko continued where he left off, saying, "And then you met _me_. Four years later, with a great deal of research under our belts, we met at the Hakuba Shrine and the rest is history."

"It's time Genya Arikado meets a fatal end," Alucard said with a sigh. "I don't know where they got their contacts, but _The History Channel_ asked for permission to include _me_ in an interview for a new television show about Dracula. I refused to sign the waver or the contract and told them I knew nothing of his lineage."

Yoko tilted her head a bit then dropped her hands to the kneeling man's shoulders. "Alucard, if you died in this castle, people might start connecting the dots. It would make more sense to fake your death in another manner."

Alucard shook his head and stood up. "When an agent dies in the field, the agency disavows _everything_. It's as if Genya Arikado never lived to begin with. If you ask me, it's a fitting end to a man who never _really _existed in the first place."

"You're the expert," she replied with a flat voice, lowering her eyes.

Alucard took her chin in his left palm and lifted her head. "I don't like when someone averts their eyes in my presence. I'm merely a man."

"…With a clandestine future," she retorted then added, "Besides, I lowered my eyes for lack of something important to say in the matter. You're the expert and my idea was rejected; it's no big deal. And yes, Hammer is here. He set up a shop in a utility room in the courtyard incase Soma shows up."

"Again: He won't," Alucard said, releasing her chin. "Also, there is a good possibility that I'll be able to return to rest, soon. It appears that there is a new Belmont for Julius to pass on his whip. That would be more than enough of a reason for me to _relax_ once more. I've not seen him since the attack at the castle gates."

"Attack?" Yoko tilted her head in confusion. "You were attacked at the gates?"

"Julius and I were standing adjacent to the Turkish Prime Minister," Alucard began. "I disabled the seal and a rush of evil burst from the gate. I had no time to react offensively and so I raised a barrier shield. It protected Julius and the Prime Minister due to their proximity. I'm not sure if this young Belmont survived. Julius and I came across enemies in the main corridor; they frightened the Turkish Prime Minister and he ran off to find a place to hide. Julius and I separated to cover more ground."

Yoko listened to him then, quite suddenly, her eyes widened. She placed her hand upon her chest and her gaze seemed distant for a moment. Her breathing became deep as if she were in a trance. She emerged, minutes later, gasping deeply.

Alucard tilted his head a bit. Raven tendrils slipped over his ear and pooled on his shoulder, partially obscuring the red fabric in his blazer's chest pocket. "You sound as though you've just surfaced from deep water."

"Not far from it," she panted. "Give me a moment …am winded." She placed her hands upon her knees and doubled over. Within a short time, Yoko regained control of her breathing then said, "Julius and his Great Nephew are alive but they're in trouble. We must hurry; Scylla plucked them from the canal leading out to Princess River."

Alucard shuttered; his father's first wife flung herself from the castle walls into that very body of water. "Princess River," he muttered beneath his breath. "Let's hurry. That river may have been blessed a thousand feet beneath the castle walls, in 2006… but beneath the castle foundations, they're still in grave danger." The two began to run together, abandoning the empty throne room.

Yoko ran beside him, asking, "What would happen if they drifted out to the river?"

"One of two things," Alucard replied. "Either they would break surface in the river at Poenari, in the outside world, or they would break surface in the river of blood, here in the Chaotic Realm. I'm not sure which would happen; it depends on the power of this castle. Without a lord, the Castle's power is limited. The Countess who seems to be fueling Castlevania's energy is still in question. This way," he added at the end, turning down one of the many hallways. He led the trusting Belnades to a shortcut that he knew from memory.

* * *

**Justus' body hung limp, high in the air, **secured by a tentacle around his waist. His sodden tail came into view; he squinted his eyes to try and focus the world around him. The drooping tail, which hung from between his thighs, seemed longer than he'd realized. Wrapped around his arms and chest, binding his paws from motion, the waterlogged cloak surrounded his upper torso. The slimy arm around his waist gave his body a stern shake; he reacted like a rag doll. 

It drew him higher, maneuvering his body through the air until a strange creature came into view, directly beneath him. His eyes landed on a garish, nude female whose ankles melted into some sort of repulsive creature, beneath her. When their eyes met, he couldn't help but look over her well endowed flesh and long dark hair.

She smiled, seeing that the werewolf lived. She used the tentacle to lower his body. Now, three feet in front of her, she took a moment to look the beast over. She used a second slimy limb to peel his cloak from around his torso. It plucked the tattered remains of his shirt from his furry body then the wet cotton boxers. They were discarded with a plop, somewhere down below.

Her voice erupted in song. "My, aren't you a lovely specimen; how did you become separated from the minions upstairs?" She lifted one of her human-looking hands and, bringing Justus' body close with the tentacle, she reached out to touch his furry face. "You poor dear; you nearly drowned, fighting that nasty human. I put him in a cage, hanging from the ceiling. We'll kill him together, when you've recovered." She lowered her hands, placing her soft palms against his sculpted, gray-furred chest. "He didn't hurt you, did he? Nasty, wretched beings; I saw his whips… he must be one of those _hunters_."

Justus, still groggy, lifted his eyes, now suspended before her. Her soft and inviting touch made him shutter. Her melodic voice put him at ease. '_She must have mistaken me for one of the castle's fiends, because of my beast-like appearance,_' he concluded in silence. The tentacle around his waist carried him to the soft, fleshy portion that connected to her ankles. There she stood, atop of a giant monster. It had large arms like an octopus and, on the section in the front, had three enormous wolf-like heads, similar to that of Cerberus.

"I don't see many other beings, down here," she told him. The two stood, face to face, on top of the giant squid-like mass. "And you're quite the beautiful man," she added. "I'm Scylla, my dear." Her hands, still on his chest, began to sift through his wet fur. One of the tentacles began to slide over his back, beneath the dripping cloak. She shuttered in delight, just taking a moment to enjoy the tactile sensations. "When your fur dries, I'll find you some fitting trousers and a tunic, love."

Justus, whose matted fur seemed too wet to bristle up at her physical ministrations, simply shuttered. His eyes lowered for a moment then lifted, drinking in everything _north_ of her ankles. The woman's delicious, nude form had him rather mesmerized. He could feel her left hand sliding down his chest, over his tummy… Her right hand captured his left paw and brought it to her ample bosom. At first touch, he couldn't feel her heart beat. '_Perhaps her heart is located in that blob beneath her,_' he thought.

The tentacle at his back slid over his hip, down over his thigh, stopped, then moved up over his muscular bottom and along his spine. It paused at his shoulders then trailed back down with the gentle touch of a real woman's fingertips. It felt… _nice_, if not entirely _creepy_.

Justus licked his lips and said, "The man with the whips; he belongs to me. So… don't kill him. We fought, together, in the lobby." He worded the deceptive statement in a way that also held a bit of truth. He then told her, "Frankenstein joined in the fight and caused a hole in the floor. Falling through it brought us both here. And… I'm Justus." He blinked, realizing that he just had a conversation with some strange monster in _plain English_. Now that his mind began to clear, he realized that he'd understood every spoken word she'd said thus far.

"Frankenstein," Scylla grumbled. "As of late, he's been the willing servant of that idiot, Countess Camilla. She spills the blood of virgin females, save for her little love slave. I'm disgusted by her errant lesbianism; I'll take a sailor …or man like you _any_ day. It's the three-headed animal in me that makes me lust after a brawny, beautiful man," she told him, lowering her left hand beneath his stomach to explore Justus' body further, adding, "Like _yourself_."

The werewolf's ears perked up, feeling her affectionate touch, south of his navel. A smooth tentacle slid down his back, brushing against the base of his tail. Justus tried not to look nervous; his paw remained stagnant upon her bosom and so she brought in a second tendril to take his wrist. She guided his paw to show him how to properly knead the flesh of her body; he blushed beneath his fur.

"I… uh," Justus whispered… Everything about his actions felt taboo. The distant sound of a slamming door caused his ears to perk up. He glanced over his shoulder, squinting into the dark section of the chamber.

Scylla glanced over the werewolf's shoulder, narrowing her eyes. A third tentacle appeared, draping a tunic and britches over his shoulder. Using her hands, she guided him behind the human-looking portion of her body. "Get dressed, Justus, we have company." She then cleared her throat and raised her melodic voice to the two beings that just entered her chamber.

"I plucked him from the sea," she told them, pointing up to the unconscious Julius. The elder Belmont rested in a cage two stories above the floor. Cold water surrounded the remaining three sides of the large arena. Beneath her bloated, squid-like bottom, bones of dead creatures had been strewn about. The three wolf-like heads lifted from the belly of the beast, snapping at Alucard and Yoko.

"So, you've returned for a rematch," Scylla said to the son of Dracula. She lifted two of the fleshy wyrms and snapped them in the air like a whip. "You've interrupted me in the middle of a personal matter. Return at a later time. Besides, that Belmont is already promised to someone else. His fate shall be in their paws; be gone."

"You've always been a vile creature," Alucard said in a clear, loud tone. His well-enunciated voice filled the room. "Seducing and devouring men; you should feel _lucky_ that you have a home, after sailors finally defeated Chribdis, leaving you alone in the sea."

Scylla flinched at the mention of her sister's death. "I never mated with sailors like Karybis," she snapped, using the archaic pronunciation of Charybdis' name, causing all three of the wolf-like heads to growl. "What else would I eat when I became sick of fish? Sharks and Dolphins move too quickly, whales are too large; I don't kill and devour every man I come across, either. Leave; the Belmont is promised to another who wishes to continue their combat with him. I have a personal agenda to attend to and you are beginning to anger me."

"Hand over Julius Belmont," said the man whose voice Justus didn't recognize. "And hand over his Nephew. If you don't, I will tear you apart and leave you as bait for the Gar fish and crabs."

Scylla narrowed her gaze. "I don't know of any young relative of this man-creature," she said, pointing to the quiet, motionless form of Julius, high above. "But as I've said before, that one belongs to another. Remove yourself from my chamber."

"_Your_ chamber, is it?" said the man, defiantly. "Hand over Belmont. I defeated you on my own, in the past. Yoko and I wouldn't even break a sweat. Two of us against just one of you? Come now, you know you can't defend yourself against two warriors of our caliber."

Scylla lifted a tentacle into the air, snatched the cage of Julius and used it as a melee weapon. However, Yoko Belnades formed a magical barrier that rendered her attack useless. Justus watched, over her shoulder, then whispered into her ear. After a moment, her body language changed; she dropped the cage in front of Alucard and said, "Take him and leave. My lover and I will find you at a later time. Be gone."

Alucard and Yoko took the cage in their hands and began to drag it towards the door. Belnades opened the lock with some sort of pick then the two of them pulled the limp Julius from the cage. They drew his left and right arms around their necks and carried him out; the room fell silent.

Justus felt immense relief that his Uncle would be safe. Once the room returned to silence, Scylla glanced over her shoulder at him and sighed softly. "I'm sorry they took your prize, Justus. Stay a while, relax and recuperate. When you have your strength back, you can go after them." She then grinned at him over her shoulder and leaned over at the knees, displaying her intimate flesh to him. "In the mean time… It's been a _very_ long time since I've known the touch of a man."

Justus blushed under his facial fur, glad that he had it. If he'd not undergone the transformation, she'd have put him in a cage with his Uncle. He still held the clothes, draped over his right forearm. "Really, I assure you that my strength has returned. I should go after them _now_, before the Belmont awakens. Taking on two, I can accomplish but all three of them… that would be foolish."

Scylla smirked a bit then used one of the smooth, slimy tendrils, placing the tip against his muscular buttocks and guiding him forward until his furry tummy brushed against the soft, pallid feminine skin of her backside… "Yes, but first, you must satisfy me; I've not felt the touch of a lover in well over a century."

Justus' muzzle parted and his eyes widened. She could see the look on his face and watched him for a moment. Before he could offer another excuse, she slid the tentacle beneath his tail and through his thighs. She used the squid-like feeler as a 'guiding hand' to direct his fifth appendage to meet her brazenly displayed flower; her fleshy petals dripped with honeydew. Justus froze in shock at what she wanted him to do to her…

* * *

**Yoko watched as Alucard carried Julius out of the room. **She ran her fingers through her lengthy hair, pushing the sandy bangs from her eyes. Beneath her other arm, her offensive magic book rested comfortably against her ribcage. Her eyes darted about, nervously, but she forced a soft smile. Withdrawing her fingers from her hair, she dropped her hand to her side and pulled a cellphone from her pocket. 

She glanced at the display and frowned. Still no reception. She couldn't call Hammer and ask if Soma had arrived. She'd not had reception since entering the castle grounds. "Funny how dependant we've become on these things. I feel more vulnerable without being connected to the outside world and yet, the truth of the matter is simple… I'm no less able to defend myself than when I have full reception; it's all in my mind. What I wouldn't give for the fantastic power of telepathy, sometimes."

She turned her gaze back to door that led to the underground passage then blinked in surprise when the door began to open. Not normally one for combat, she lifted the text books and flipped to a bookmarked section. Ready to cast the most malicious of battle spells, her heart began to beat wildly, seeing a werewolf step through the door.

Justus, still fairly damp, held his tunic and pants in his left paw. He saw the woman and quickly drew the elegant cloak about his body, shut the door then dropped to his knees. He panted softly, wiping his brow with the backside of his right paw. "Whatever happened to _demure_ females?" he demanded in reference to Scylla. Justus bit back pent up sexual frustration but reminded himself he wouldn't have been able to perform due to the potency of his disgust.

"Y… you can speak?" Yoko asked, backing away slowly but keeping her book at the ready. "Then stay back; I know powerful spells. I've never used them on a sentient, speaking monster before… but that doesn't mean I won't do it to protect myself."

"Geeze, give it a rest, lady," Justus muttered, sinking back on his haunches, leaning against the door to the underground water passage. "You're one of the ones that came for Uncle Julius; where is he?"

She opened her mouth to speak but, instead, blinked at the werewolf in surprise. "_Uncle_ Julius?" Her eyes widened and she just gawked at the man-beast.

Justus tried not to roll his eyes. After all, this time yesterday, he would have reacted the same way as her. "Yeah, I'm a werewolf. It surprised me too. Where's Uncle Julius?"

"Aluca – I mean, Mr. Arikado took him to a safe place where he could administer medical attention to your Uncle. It seems that Mister Belmont has a small amount of water in his lungs and a debilitating cut on his left forearm. Even a man of supernatural ability needs medical attention after nearly drowning. I'm not sure how he cut his arm."

"It must have been from the fall," Justus replied. He sighed deeply in both relief and worry. "The bottom of that canal was jagged. It's a good thing the water was there or we'd have fallen to our deaths. That would have been ironic… being impaled by stalagmites in Dracula's Castle."

"I… suppose you're right about that." She paused then said, "I'm Yoko Belnades."

"Justus Bell. Julius is my Great Uncle." Sharp as a tack and, remembering his Uncle saying, '_Enjoy Moscow,_' on the cell phone outside,he decided to change the subject. "I thought you were in Moscow."

She nodded. "Yes, after I spoke to Julius on the phone, earlier, I decided to take the very first flight out of Russia. You know, everyone worried about your Uncle; if the Belmont family didn't pass on their genes…"

"Yeah," Justus replied in a flat voice, "No one would be able to receive the Vampire Killer Whip… It would go back to the Morris Family, who would struggle without the help of the Belmonts. All that would remain would be the Graves and Baldwin clans. They don't even have their Hunter's Whip. Uncle J. somehow obtained it, here in the castle."

"The Hunter's Whip… That's a long story," Yoko said. "I see you know your history. It appears that Julius is grooming _you_ to carry on the family line. That's a relief."

"I'm sure he'd go into cardiac arrest if he knew that I nearly…" Justus trailed off, reminding himself that he was in the company of a female. "Never mind. My _mother_ would be the one going into cardiac arrest if she knew I was about to say something lewd to a lady." He offered a nervous chuckle. His mind ran wild with a myriad of random thoughts in that instant. '_I don't think either one of them would care to know I almost lost my virginity to a squid-like, man-eating, tentacle creature with animal heads. I don't even think I would want to bring that up to a psychologist. I wonder what Sigmund Freud would think; Jesus! Wasn't he born in Moravia, to the North-East of here? I'm becoming obsessed with this stupid part of Europe.' _

The corner of Yoko's mouth tugged into an amused grin. "I'm glad to hear she raised you properly." She couldn't believe she now held a dialogue with a werewolf. However, his personality helped to put her at ease. "I think I can trust you; how did you know I took your Uncle out of that lower chamber?"

"I was sorta there," Justus said, still sitting on the floor. "Scylla thought I was one of the mansion monsters because I'm a werewolf. I distracted her by means of… you know… _conversation_, and told her to spare Julius because he belonged to me. I was relieved when you guys came and got him."

Yoko nodded to his words then her eyes zeroed in on the clothes he held in his paw. "You're soaking wet but those clothes look fairly dry. Where'd you get them from? We should get more, so we can get Julius out of his wet garb, so he doesn't get sick."

"They came from Scylla," Justus replied with another nervous chuckle. "I guess she pitied me in the same fashion. If you ask me, _all_ women worry too much, no matter how monstrous one of them might be."

Yoko nodded slightly. Realizing she used her cellphone to bookmark a part of her open text book, she slid the phone back into her pocket and shut the tome. She placed it beneath her arm and sighed softly. "Speaking of worrying, now that you've shown up and you're safe, Mister Arikado shouldn't mind if I head down to the courtyard and see how things are going with Hammer. Do everyone a favor and stay out of trouble, please?"

"Thanks for looking out for us." Justus thought better on the statement then smiled loosely. "Thanks for coming all the way from Russia. That's an awful long journey, even by plane."

Belnades approached the werewolf and, in an attempt to show that she didn't fear him, patted his muzzle with her palm. "This is the forties," she told him, referring to the date. "The Concorde Two, Justus. It may be an expensive way to travel but when the Church pays for your Diners Club and Visa Card… well, let's just say that one cannot put a price on haste."

"Thanks all the same," he replied. His eyes lowered, trying not to look awkward about her hand on his furry muzzle. He was fairly popular with girls in high school; how would he ever have a social life now that he was an animal? He shook his head a bit then said, "I'll catch up with the rest of you soon. This whole thing is new to me and I need to… sorta… stretch my claws a bit, you know?"

She smiled, withdrawing her hand. "Understood. See you soon. If you need gear, Hammer's shop is in the courtyard. He has everything from potions to bullets to the latest news."

Her words prompted him to reach to the belt under his cloak. The Taurus pistol was still there but he wasn't sure if it would work now that it'd been under water. At least now he'd have a means to buy ammunition. "Thanks."

The two parted ways. Justus glanced back at the door leading to Scylla's chambers then shook his head slowly. "That's all you'd need," he scolded himself. "Paying child support checks, addressed to Dracula's Castle. There's a bright idea. Maybe I could have a reality TV show about it… We could call it 'The Real Munsters' family. All our fights would be on talk shows called, 'My baby's mother is an evil bloodsucking monster from Hell who wants money because she doesn't have a job of her own.' Well… at least she was gorgeous from the ankles, up."

Justus opened the cloak and unpinned the broach. He laid it out on the floor and pulled the tunic over his head. He secretly praised Scylla for giving him something that fit so remarkably well. The pants came next, also fitting very comfortably. A crisscross of leather strands had to be tied at his crotch and at the back-end of his new pants. Taking a moment to get creative with how he tied the back section of the pants, he made room for his new tail through the material and tied it at the top and bottom loops, above and below the tail. He gave it a satisfied swish then shook his head at the satire of his situation.

He removed his belt then put it back on overtop of the pants. Finally, he put the wet gun back into the belt and put the four magazines into the deeply sewn pockets he now had. Justus smoothed out the fabric over his furry body then rolled his cuffs up to where his new ankle joint began. Finally, the young werewolf picked up the cloak and held it up in his paws. "Look at me; an animal with opposable thumbs. I'm just at the top of the freakin' food chain, aren't I? And the only person I could probably score a date with has a squid instead of feet."

He rolled the cloak into a tight ball and squeezed it between his palms. With the strength of an athletic Belmont, he managed to force a good amount of water from the fabric. He unrolled the cloak then balled it up once more and repeated his actions. When finished, he pulled the damp cape around his shoulders and reattached the crucifix pin. "But good god, she had a fine ass," he muttered aloud. "Geeze, Justus, don't go makin' the Hell Spawn your _first_… that's a sure way of screwing up your head. And here I thought that one girl I dated in tenth grade was 'Hell Spawn' …boy, now that I know the difference, it really puts a huge perspective on things."

He glanced back at the door to the underground passage one last time then sighed. He knew he might have to go back in order to locate Ortega's body, if he had time for it. His sigh evolved into a chuckle at the end of the breath. He turned away from the door and headed back towards the heart of the castle to find the little old man, James Johnson, and possibly his Uncle.

* * *

**Justus Bell opened a door leading into the grand hall** with the duel staircases on either side. A door between the bottom staircases led to the balcony where he and Frankenstein had come from. A noise at the top of the steps grabbed his attention and the curious lupine beast ascended the steps to investigate. He came to a well-lit corridor, stopping in the doorway to watch as Ottoman soldiers battled against undead crusaders. 

Each of the Turkish Muslim soldiers left bloody footsteps in their wake. Some of them had impaling holes through their armor suits or brittle metal pants. The soldiers ran one another through with their swords but the fighting continued. The immortal undead could only be killed by decapitation or complete evisceration. Occasionally, one of the crusaders would score a fatal sword swing, resulting in a headless Turk.

The body would crumble to the ground and the head, every so often, would roll out of the rusty helmet. The turban unraveled on one of the decapitated heads, leaving a pile of musty cloth across the granite floor. Justus winced; his eyes flitted elsewhere, trying not to look at the gore. It took about ten minutes before the undead crusaders bested the undead Ottoman squad. When they did, they turned their attention on the werewolf standing in the doorway.

"Aw bloody hell," Justus muttered. He opened the damp cloak and raised his claw-tipped paws into the air. The remaining four soldiers began to charge, leaving Justus no choice but to act on his instincts. He sprinted into the large hallway, running at the men.

"Slay the barbarian heathen! In the name of Jesus Christ!" one shouted.

Another added, "Give us the strength to become God's wrath!" The sound of their lumbering metal armor clattered down the hallway in a mishmash of unpracticed cadence. They raised their blood-soaked swords, baring dented, crumbling shields. The only part of their inventory that _wasn't_ brittle was their flame-tempered broadswords.

Justus, running towards them, instinctively dropped to his forepaws, in a gallop. He leapt into the air, bowling over all four soldiers with a flying tackle. He came to his feet and lifted his right foot, stomping on the rusty helmet of the nearest fallen soldier. He crushed the metal and skull with in beneath his right heel. The undead crusader died without a sound beyond the crunching of bone and metal.

The gruesome sound of splattering went on deaf ears; Justus leapt into the fray, remaining on the offense. He pounced two soldiers lying side by side. He forced his claws into their chests, piercing their undead hearts. The fourth soldier got to his feet while Justus' attention remained on his current targets.

The undead knight pivoted on his heel, swinging his sword with all of his might. Something strange occurred next; the sensation of time slowing to a crawl surrounded the werewolf once more. His hypersensitive, ultra-focused sensory perception returned, changing everything.

Bell found himself kneeling between two men, his claws having penetrated their armor plating. His eyes cut to the left and there, in his peripheral view, he saw the shadow of a sword flitting through the air. The fur on the nape of his neck stood up as if each and every strand was magnetically charged, reaching out to the incoming sword aimed above his shoulders.

Justus ducked his head down, tucking it between his knees, crouched on the floor. The sword passed harmlessly over his head then he lifted it once more and forced his paws upwards. He brought his clawed fingertips up to the arm of the attacker, sheering it from the undead man's torso.

His sword, arm and all, clattered to the ground, sliding across the room. Justus stood up; his ears flickered with the rumble of wind that seemed to accompany the ascension of his body. He turned towards the attacking soldier and instinctively lifted his right knee. It felt like an eternity before his knee collided with the midsection of his opponent.

The one-armed attacker doubled over in an overly-dramatized unrealistic sensation of slow motion. Without thinking his actions through, Justus lifted his right paw, closed his furry digits into a fist then brought his elbow down upon the metal helmet of his opponent. The soldier lost his equilibrium and began to stumble. The newly-transformed werewolf followed through with the down-thrust of his elbow then displaced his kinetic energy by delivering an uppercut. His right claw-covered fist found the place where the bottom of the helmet stopped at the man's chin.

The triumvirate barrage – a three hit combination attack – launched the body into the air. Due to the weight of the soldier's remaining arm, he rolled over in midair. The undead crusader finally landed on his side, splayed across the floor. The two remaining soldiers on the floor began to sit up, directly behind him.

Justus pivoted on his heel, swinging his right arm outwards, hooking his paw across the side of the nearest of the two guards. His powerful swing and razor-sharp claws successfully removed the head of another soldier. It flew clean off the shoulders and landed in the lap of the adjacent soldier.

Fueled by the incredible potency of adrenaline, young Justus Bell plunged both of his clawed paws into the chest and stomach of the soldier who began to get to his feet. Justus lifted his arms into the air, plucking the impaled crusader from the floor. With every ounce of his strength and upper body weight, the werewolf used his enemy to impale the one-armed combatant, who also began to sit up.

Somehow, Justus managed to use the undead body of one attacker to spear the torso of the man missing his arm. Because of their brittle bodies and armor, it became possible to perform such a feat. He then used his feet to crush the skulls of both, to ensure that they remained dead. Maggots spilled out of their shattered skulls, cascading across the ground with a splash of coagulated, slimy blood.

The werewolf expelled a breathy sigh then, as the esoteric sensation of slow motion came to an end, he broke into soft panting. In truth, he'd been panting rhythmically all along. But each breath and release felt as though it lasted nearly a full minute, during the strange experience of slowed temporal displacement.

The adrenaline high lasted another moment then abruptly ended, like the buzz-kill of a desperate junkie. Justus' stomach turned and he dropped to his knees, beginning to dry-heave. Sweat matted down the fur of his forehead and his nose dried out for a moment. He buried his face between his knees, placing his paws overtop the back of his head, attempting to throw up. Nothing happened. Within a few minutes, the pain finally subsided, leaving him to feel overheated. He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, just breathing normally.

The strange sensation concluded and he sat up. His relief seemed palpable, like when the sharp pain of a mind-numbing 'ice cream headache' finally subsides. Justus found himself grunting out a sigh of relief. He stood up and, same as before, shook like a wet dog. With the bodies of a dozen men lying all about him, he suddenly felt the desire to leave this room.

Justus drew the cloak around his body again and reached up, pulling the hood back over his head. He walked down the hallway and began his search for the others with renewed vigor.

* * *

A/N: _Weee... Any more ideas, anybody? By the way, the Florescu family are real descendents of Dracula; he despised that side of the family and the things noted in the first portion of this chapter really happened to them, including the blessing of Princess River at Poenari, in 2006. You've probably noticed the research and history I include in most chapters, especially when Julius and Justus first arrive in Romania. Why? Because I do tons of research when I write... it's more fun to do this story if I know the reader has the ability to grab a name, place or historical occurance, google it and see that it's all legit. It adds to the sense of reality I try to create as a writer. I want the reader to feel like you're there and this is the real stuff. If you can watch History Channel and see a program on George Florescu, I feel that adds another level of depth and realism to this make-believe world of fantasy. _

_I like when readers escape reality into a fantasy world that FEELS real. That's why I do all that research for most of my chapters. Anyway, thanks again for reading! Now that Yoko and Alucard are here, what else do you readers want to see? _

_btw, are the combat scenes too gory or just right? _


	7. Chapter 6: Intervention of Man

A/N: _I've just got two feedback reviews in a row… And just that simple act of getting two people saying, "I liked this, I enjoy reading it and I want more," in a row has given me a reason to work on this more. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE writing this story; it's a fun piece to write. But I was so pleased to get two people to say something… has given me more drive to put attention into it. In fact, I took off work today to start writing on it (February 28th) so… Thanks, you two! I appreciate it! I usually reply to each person who leaves feedback, but since I have no way to contact you guys, I hope this little author's note works! _

_-Kit

* * *

_

Chapter -6-  
Intervention of Man

**The towering, gray-furred werewolf** lumbered through the hallway; gelatinous remnants of blood stained his claws. The hooded cloak billowed around his ankles, undulating to the rhythm of his step. Ornate body armor lined the wall of this hallway, much like the hallways on the first floor. Mirrored shields accompanied the suits, allowing Justus Bell to see himself in a way that resembled a Hollywood dramatization.

'_Interesting; I wonder what these mirrors are for,_' he thought. His eyes flitted from left to right, gazing at the reflective surfaces that held the image of his hooded form. Half-way down the hall, the floor tiles changed to mirrors and, ten meters further, the entire hallway became an intricate reflective surface. Pillars of reflective glass, arches of beautifully restored mirrors and entire reflective armored suits lined the shimmering walls.

Up ahead, a strange image flitted by, seeming to run perpendicular to the hallway. Justus quickened his pace, dashing into an intersection. He turned left and saw what appeared to be a young woman hurrying down the hall. Her footfalls clicked like tap-dance shoes from the tempered mirror floors. She turned left and the fantastic kaleidoscope of her image disappeared from the hallway.

He lifted his paws, rubbing his furry wrists against his eyes. "What in the hell…" The beastly man sprinted to the next intersection just in time to see her break left again, down the hall. His pupils dilated and his eyes widened in realization of what she'd just done. He turned about and ran back down the hall in the direction from which he'd come.

He made a right at the intersection, padded down the hall then turned to make his next right… At the corner, he collided with a soft body; onyx strands of hair carried forward from momentum, shrouding either side of his muzzle for the duration of a second. Both collapsed to the ground, tumbling along the floor in confusion. Justus sat up, glaring at her.

The girl scrambled to her hands and knees, her shoes squeaking on the mirrored floor. Justus' ears laid flat on his head, reminded of the sound of sneakers on a waxed indoor basketball court. He saw her jaw drop and eyes widen, lifting her left hand to cover her gaping mouth. "Holy shit," she shrieked through her fingers.

"Calm down!" Justus cried in reply. "I'm not here to hurt you, so just take a deep breath and _chill out_!"

"Christ, you can talk?" she said, scurrying back to the wall. The girl pressed herself into the mirror-lined bulkhead, pulling her knapsack over her chest in a protective manner. Her right hand plunged into it, pulling out an old service revolver.

"Whoa, wait just a second there!" Justus shouted, reaching for the Taurus in his belt. He pointed the barrel back at the young woman, narrowing his eyes. "You need to just chill out, goddamn you! I said I'm not here to hurt you," he added.

The revolver trembled in her sweaty palm. She looked resolved by the shaky weapon and nervous gaze belied her stone facial expression. "Since when did six-foot dogs speak English and use guns?" Her snappy demanding tone caused Justus to face-fault.

"I'm going to put this down." He lifted his left paw, palm out, and lowered the gun, pushing it back into his cloak. "And now, it's your turn to do the same, cool?"

"I… guess," she placed her thumb on the hammer, pulling it back. She eased in on the trigger, to release the cocking mechanism but her sweaty thumb caused the hammer to slip. The revolver bucked in her palm.

Justus' ears flickered from the obnoxious noise in unison to his body flinching from the connection of a bullet to his flesh. The round struck above his waist, spinning him to the right. It passed through his cloak; his left paw reached to the right side of his torso, just beneath his ribs. He dropped to the reflective tiles and a pool of scarlet began to gather, beneath him.

"Shit! OH my God, I'm so sorry," she said. She plunged the pistol back into the knapsack and fished for some bandages. "Jesus, I didn't mean to shoot you," she said, muttering a string of vituperative curses under her breath.

Justus cradled his right side, wincing from the sensation of heat. Still in shock, he couldn't yet feel the piercing stab of pain, only a scalding heat, beneath the fur. He didn't reply to her. Instead, his eyes watered up with moisture from the hot sting… At first, the pain reminded him of the time he'd been stung by a hornet, at the age of ten. The lupine's lips curled up in a snarl, revealing his clinched white teeth. His toes curled; his chest and shoulders tightened then he closed his eyes, sighing in an attempt to keep his temper.

"My name is Justus Bell," he finally said. "And I don't appreciate you shooting me. Unless I've bared my teeth and am rushing at you, please refrain from… nevermind."

"It was an accident!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah." He turned away from her, eyes clinched. "Just… nevermind. Give me a minute, this hurts, goddammit."

"I'm… Molly Fields," she said in a guilty tone. "I'm sorry I shot you, really." Her voice sounded as though she were afraid he would retaliate at any moment.

"Hush," the beast muttered. "Maybe if you'd shot me while I was in the middle of fighting ten men, it wouldn't hurt so badly. Adrenaline, you know? Right now, I just need for you to relax and be quiet. I'm here to find you, that old man – James Johnson, and whoever else is in here… and my uncle, and get you all out of here. That's my only concern, and as far as…" his voice trailed off, his ears perked up at the sound of a strange rumbling. "…Do you hear that?"

"No," she said in reply. "Hear what?"

Justus hobbled off, down the hallway. "Follow me." He perked his ears, keeping his right arm around his waist, cradling the wound. His ears led him to a window, further into the mirrored hallway. He lifted his head, gazing out the window; the sill beginning at shoulder level. His eyes narrowed, watching a small dot in the sky. "What… in the hell is _that_?"

Molly approached the window, gazed to Justus in a nervous way then peered up through the window, moving closer to him. "That's… an Israeli built airplane: A bomber with Turkish markings. Hah! I _knew_ we didn't go back in time or go to some astral plane or some other insane crap! I know the Turkish markings, because I know this countryside damn well."

"Well what's it doing?" Justus asked. His eyes squinted, watching the bomber's nose lower, dropping in altitude. "It'd better not crash over us; we're not the Bermuda Triangle for Chrissake. I don't need airplanes dropping on this castle, I swear."

Molly tightened her hands around the war bag she wore. "It looks like it's coming in for a run, but I thought World War II dive bombers did that. Why is he dropping?"

"He's awfully big," Justus replied, squinting at the dot. "How can you see colors on his undercarriage, all I see is a "T" shaped dot in the sky. And I've got good eyes."

"Not as good as mine," she said. Her bragging tone melted into a gasp of surprise. "What the hell is that!" Her strange nervous tension about proximity to a man beast seemed to disappear. She wiggled between Justus and the window, pulling herself up to the ledge to get a closer look. Her eyes narrowed to a squint, watching the bottom of the dot in the sky. "Oh shit!"

"Excuse me?" he barked in reply. "What?"

"They're dropping some sort of ordinance!" she shouted. With her palms on the window ledge, he arched her back and shoulders, shoving him away from the window. Molly dropped to her feet and turned from the window. Outside, a howling whistle increased in volume until the ringing noise caused Justus' ears to lower from the piercing sound. He watched the girl take off down the hall but she didn't get far. Her foot came in contact with slick blood, where she'd shot him and she stumbled to the floor.

He shook his head and bounded off, after her. The howling sound became earsplitting. He dropped to the floor, covering her body with his, just as the bomb detonated, above the castle. A bright flash filled the hallway, from the window, so that every inch of the mirrored corridor became blinding. Justus kept his face down, over her body, protecting her incase the roof caved in. However, the sound of silence lingered on. Incredible heat rushed in through all the windows of the castle, rolling over his cape in a brief fraction of a second. A hot rush of wind, nearly seventy miles an hour, swept through the hallway, rippling his cloak.

His adrenaline kicked in and he forgot his wound for a moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel the terrified girl clinging to his wrist, keeping her pinned to the reflective floor tiles. A roar of sound shattered the silence, and yet the sound seemed distant. All at once, the flash ended and the dim illumination of the mirrored corridor returned.

Justus sat up; his hood flopped to his right shoulder. Molly crawled out from beneath his arms and ran back to the window. Justus let her go, sitting on the floor in a daze. He felt disoriented and his senses told him to be anywhere but here at this very instant. The dizzy spell gripped his chest, leaving his head to spin with vertigo.

"This proves it," she said, from further down the hall. "There isn't a God. There can't be. It's impossible."

Justus stood up, placing his shoulder against the reflective wall. The mirrored wall seemed somewhat faded. In fact, now that his eyes readjusted, he noted the spot on the floor he'd just come from, seemed normal, but everywhere else in the hall seemed to be faded. He slumped along the wall, approaching her. "Wait, hold on. I feel dizzy; I don't think it's from lack of blood, though." He approached the window, looking out into the sky. "…What the?"

Molly covered her mouth with her hand and said, "I feel like I'm inside of a snow globe, looking out at _real_ snow, covering the glass dome." Outside, a circular bubble seemed to surround the castle. A fine white powder collected upon the bubble, making it visible to the naked eye. "I hope that's not what I think it is," she said.

"What does it look like, to you?"

She sighed. "Fallout."

* * *

**Julius Belmont paused in the circular granite staircase**, placing his palm on the stone blocks. He could feel a vibration in the stones, but they felt warm to the touch. "Odd," he said under his breath. The hall seemed to roar to life with a rush of hot air. It lasted for several seconds then subsided. He stepped from the staircase, into the fourth floor hallway. A demon flailed about with listless abandon, in an attempt to see. Its melted eyes ran down its cheeks like sludge. Its hands were outstretched, trying to feel for anything. However, standing in the center of the large room, it couldn't find a wall to gain any sort of bearing. 

Julius reached his right hand back to the gauze over his left forearm. It began at his elbow, stopped at his wrist and, even with Yoko's spells and Genya's stitching job, it still hurt. His favored brown coat had been lost, left to dry over the heart in a guest room. His flamboyant garment, something he wore like a jersey in combat against vampires, remained with his coat.

The old man's eyes flitted back to Genya Arikado, emerging from the staircase behind him. He tilted his head, nodding at the demonic imp in the hall, whose melted eyes sent a shutter through the spines of even the most hardened warriors. It lifted its scaly hands, dabbing at the slimy white cream running down its cheeks. A disgruntled shriek of rage, confusion and fear erupted from its maw. The beast gnashed its incisors then dropped to the ground in a kneeling position.

Julius uncoiled the whip on his belt in silence. Genya approached Julius and placed a palm on the hunter's shoulder. Julius tilted his head in curiosity, glancing back at the pallid fingertips on his shirtless-shoulder. His eyes lifted, glancing at Alucard with a frown. "The inability to see," he whispered, "doesn't rule him out as a threat."

Alucard nodded, then released Belmont's shoulder, lifting his hand to point at the demon in silence. Julius' eyes returned to the thin cloth of a wife-beater undershirt that form-fittingly clung at the base of his neck, along his collarbone. He pivoted on his heel and glanced back at the demon, knelt in despair, wiping in a tentative way at the frothy thick liquid which dribbled from its clinched eyelids.

"Demon," said Alucard in a calm, deep voice. "Do not be alarmed; I see you are defenseless and demand to know what has happened to your face." The vampire passed Julius and approached the demon, looking over the gooey mixture of blood and paste covering over scaly cheeks.

"I can't… I can't see anything." The demon growled. "I looked outside, through the windows and the sky lit up in a flash brighter than I've ever seen. And now everything is dark." The demonic beast sniffed at the air then said, "My face is wet, I think I'm sweating but I don't feel _hot_." Its clawed fingers shut into the palm, making fists. "The darkness came; I felt a momentary hot wind. End my life; that I may not live as one handicapped, left to slowly starve in these dusty halls."

"As you wish," replied mister Arikado, drawing a sword from the sheath on his belt. "Make peace with your soul, that I might release you from the Curse of his castle."

"Praised be to G-…" The demon's words fell short and its head pitched forward, cleft from the body. With a resounding thud, the entire head hit the ground; the body slumped back, crashing to the floor.

Julius coiled his whip, hooking it on the mount clipped on his belt. He gave a tug at the hem of the tank-top out of habit… something he did to remove the wrinkles from his clothes after an encounter with enemies. Belmont approached the nearest window and looked up at the sky. "Genya… look at this." His calm voice denoted the serious nature of the situation.

Mr. Arikado reached into his pocket, pulling out a moist cloth. He rubbed the flat of his sword against the demon's soiled trousers, flipped the blade and cleaned the other side. On approach, he used the cloth to rub a layer of oil onto the blade then sheathed it. He pushed the cloth back into his clothes, beneath the dress-suit blazer and looked over Julius' shoulder.

"…It can't be," said the lithe man. He reached his hands upwards, brushing away locks of white. The ashen snow hovering above the castle made it feel as though they resided inside of a dome, looking out. "But it all makes sense… the flash, the intense wave of heat… the Demon's eyes… Inadvertently, we've been saved by the power of this castle's magical seal. It's far stronger than I'd realized and, if it had been anything less, we'd all be dead."

Belmont looked dubious. "I highly doubt you're referring to what I _think_ you're referring to…"

Genya, a very cultured man, placed his hand to his chin. His pensive gesture portrayed the obvious apprehensions now plaguing him. "It appears the nervous Turkish Government may have deployed a B-61 Nuclear Gravity Bomb."

Julius' eyes widened. He glanced to Alucard, then back to the window and exclaimed, "What?"

The vampire sighed. "It's impossible to know how long they've been trying to enter this castle after their Prime Minister was, to their knowledge, abducted. It would be the decision of the Sultan of Istanbul, I fear. He's a very paranoid man. …Look!" Genya Arikado lifted his right hand, pointing at the grainy, distorted image of a jet fighter. "You can barely see him through the layer of fallout lying on the magic seal bubble, but it's a Rafael reconnaissance fighter. He's flying overhead to survey the damage. Right now, he's probably reporting that he's never seen anything like this…"

"You seem to know a lot about the warfare of man," Julius mused, folding his arms, taking care so as not to put any pressure against the wound on his left forearm. "What would this region look like from the sky?"

"The castle would be intact," Alucard told him. "The bubble would look like dirty glass, fallout would be light but it would be resting on the top of the bubble. Depending on the power of the bomb, there will be a crater in the earth on all sides of the magic seal, looking oddly reminiscent of a moat around the castle grounds. The grassy field will be a flat, barrel wasteland of ashes and embers. Trees in the distance are probably burning, but anything close to the castle would have been vaporized. This includes my limousine, the bodies of the police and workers – were they not collected by the Romanian government, first. I would hope so, as Romania would most likely conduct an autopsy on each body to ascertain what happened down there. There is _no conceivable way_ that Romania would conduct a nuclear strike on a castle in its own region. However, this section of the countryside is very empty. A low-yield detonation would not interfere with the nearest major cities, save for very light cases of low radiation sickness in people."

"And you think, because this guy from Turkey is paranoid, he'd be the one to have ordered it?" Julius craned his neck, looking up from the window at the strange blob directly above the castle… looking up at the heel of a mushroom cloud high above them. From this angle, it had no definition or apparent shape. "Wouldn't that complicate relations between Turkey and its neighbors? Asia Minor, the Middle East and most of Europe?" Belmont cast his gaze back to Alucard.

"Right now, Julius, word of this attack and images from neighboring cities and satellite photos… are being broadcast to every nation in the country as breaking news. It's not every day a nuclear weapon is detonated in public, above ground, in an open area. People are demanding answers, government political figures are trying to get information while being slammed with demands. Local and International authorities are scrambling to get information from the Military. Military groups around the world are trying to shed light on this mess to find out who made the order, why and if they're a threat, capable or willing to do it again. We should be dead; I've seriously underestimated the power of this castle's magic seal. Now that it feels threatened, it will change in frequency, modulation and power, so as to protect itself. Nobody will get in or out, short of Devine Intervention."

"Seems unlikely," Julius replied in a flat tone. "He only steps in when one person's freewill decision has taken freewill from the rest of the population. He's rather big on making sure the majority of us have our freedom of will. Shy of that, I don't think He'll intervene. He's not a babysitter."

"I tend to agree," said Alucard. "He's here to lend us strength when we need to be empowered. He's here to offer signs and sometimes direction but he's not here to hold our hands when we go to war with one another. This is a dispute of man, directly taking an assault to the forces of Evil. Evil isn't exactly allowed to war with man, beyond manipulation, temptation and coercion. So, man won't be able to make this castle a battleground. The magic seal stands between this evil cursed place and the rest of mankind."

"Who would win?" Julius asked. "Or am I just a representative of mankind?"

"Humanity would trump Evil in a direct assault," Genya replied. "But that will not happen. It's foretold in the Christian Bible, in the revelations, that Evil will rise up and lead mankind; there will not be a war… Mankind will be tricked into following the leadership of Satan. Thus, Evil will attempt to strengthen itself with the forces of humanity, in order to overthrow the power of Good."

Belmont gazed back to the dark sheet of ash lying on the magic bubble, just outside of the Castle. "But God has the ability to abolish evil from existence with but a thought, right?"

"God created order and life," Alucard said, narrowing his eyes. "He does not advocate violence between sides, which is why he created life based on balance of good and evil. Perfect harmony requires both sides to be even. His Son is the King in the army of Good. The archangels are the Generals and the seraphim guardians are the lieutenants of light. God is the creator. He is not opposed, because those who oppose Him directly simply cease to exist, with the exception of Humans, who are allowed to believe in whatever, because they're bestowed the gift of Freewill. God doesn't fight, he mediates. However, He is an advocate of Good, after all, He created the law of life so that perfect balance between Good and Evil creates Harmony, which is a good thing. God only intervened in the war of Good and Evil on very few occasions. All of these occasions were when Evil began to triumph to the point of shaking the cosmic foundations. And so, he gave humanity his Son. Jesus learned all he would need to know in thirty-three short years on Earth. Then, he died, so that he could ascend to Heaven and take his seat as the King of Heaven."

"I thought God was the King of Heaven," Julius said, stepping back from the window.

"No," said Alucard with a pointed tone. He took a long, slow breath and turned to Julius. "I'll explain it all in a nutshell, and then this conversation is _over_, do you understand?" asked the Vampire, drawing his cloak about himself with narrowed eyes. "He's the King of all existence. There is a difference. Existence is Heaven, Hell _and_ Earth. And he's managing both sides, to keep them from toppling the other, as it would have an adverse reaction to the kingdom of Earth. Jesus helps humans directly because it bodes well into the miracles of Good. Satan helps humans directly because it bodes well into the temptation and manipulation of the kingdom of Earth, giving Evil an edge. God runs the whole show, to make sure the least amount of casualties happen, so that neither empire topples the other, so that the Kingdom of Earth does not crash… without balance, you have chaos, no matter who runs the show, good or evil.

"Think about this, Julius… You stand here and imagine a life without evil, but your mortal mind cannot comprehend just how that would bring about a cease for life. With no struggle and no need to survive, there would be no NEED for the Kingdom of Earth and there would be no need for this realm… then, because Good reigns supreme, all the people of Earth become Saints. Then, with no need for middle ground, all humans would simply become inducted into Heaven. You sort of have to _die_ to go to Heaven. Everyone on the planet would die and go to Heaven. It would be the end of Life as we know it. The end of life means the end of God's creation. God's creation IS life, His _gift_ is Freewill. To end His creation would mean that the end of the universe. Without existence, Heaven is unnecessary. Then, there is nothing. Nothing except for God, with no creation. You really think He wants to start over from scratch? We've come so far and He has worked so hard to keep the balance. And now you know.

"You're a knight in the kingdom of Good, Julius Belmont. You will ascend to Heaven and fight in the war against Hell but you won't fight with your bare hands, as you do here. I don't know how fighting is done there, but it won't be with blood, flesh or bone. Those factors do not exist anywhere else but Earth. Jesus is the only one in Heaven who consists of Flesh or Blood, because they are integral parts of whom He is. Now, I can't sit here and explain the _Eternal Struggle_ of the Great Autocracy – the tiers beneath The Creator – known as the Celestial Bureaucracy of Good and of Evil, because it's not for you to know. Besides that, we don't have the time."

Julius remained quiet for a moment. His eyes flitted from Alucard back to the window, back to the vampire. "I didn't realize that the Son of Dracula would have such intimate knowledge of the Universe."

"Who says I'm the son of Dracula?" Genya announced with an airy chuckle and a roll of his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't," Julius replied. However, he changed the subject, reproaching the window. "Do you think this attack will affect Bulgaria?"

"They hardly exist," Alucard scoffed. "They were once part of Turkey. And, as far as you're concerned, I'm Genya Arikado and I work for a Government body, answering to and for the kingdom of Earth. To say I'm anything more would imply that I worked for Hell and switched sides to Heaven. I work for neither Good or Evil, but the God of both… I'm here to help the continuation of Life. Right now, Evil is very powerful, so I will help to push it back with all that I am. When Good has become victorious, I will simply return to sleep. I am a man, I bleed and I can be struck down." He lifts his hand to the window and added, "That bomb could have obliterated me in the flash of an instant. I'm not a god or a Demigod; my father was born and nursed and believed in Christianity. My mother was born, she was raised and she loved and mothered and died as all humans do."

Julius lifted his hands in a defensive posture, "Fine, very well. But I've always known. I'll drop it. Now," he sighed with a frown. "What do we do? Finding a way to take down the seal will kill us all with lethal radiation. What are our options."

"We find the Turkish Prime Minister," said Alucard. "We locate survivors, protect ourselves and find a way to remove the magic seal. We then wait. When the time is right, we abolish the seal and secure transportation, via teleportation, to a safe plane. Because it might be weeks before we can leave this castle, we would do well to find a source of Food. Let's also find Yoko and Hammer; they're most likely down in the courtyard. I wish to ensure that they were unharmed by the flash or burst of superheated wind. In certain parts of the castle, the heat would feel like a fireball, probably incinerating some. The seal probably protected us from most of the heat but I still wish to check on them."

Julius nodded. "Fine. Let's find them then we'll look for Justus."

* * *

A/N: _Now our heroes are sealed in the castle without the ability to leave… Surly Justus' mother is back in England all upset. What about Yoko and Hammer in the courtyard? Are they okay, after the flash happened? We'll find out. IF you like this story, thank the two feedback reviews I got. I was going to work on two other chapters, one for Spy Cooper and one for Reflections Of Fox McCloud but… people showing interest in this story makes me show interest in finishing it. :D_

_I started a new job as a Manager at Blockbuster video to make some cash… so I won't be able to hammer out a hundred pages in a week (all stories combined) like I usually do. But anyhow. _

_Thanks for the input guys! Also, as always, my readers often help dictate things that happen in my stories… anything yaw'll wanna see? _

_PS: All the information on Turkey's attack capabilities for the 2040's are based loosely on what the UN claims they have now, PLUS the future orders they've made with Isreal and a hint of imagination for what the future might bring. As of today, Turkey's Nuclear bombs are sitting, more or less, in American Bases for emergencies. They do not have their own Nuclear program, although they do have plans to create up to 15 Nuclear Power Plants around 2015. It's IAEA backed and supported by the rest of the world. They do not have the authority to touch the Nuclear gravity-drop style bombs and you don't have to worry about them doing what they've done in this story. Although it will create quite a huge political storm IN the story, now that mankind has staged their intervention. The fools! hehe_

_-Kit_


	8. Chapter 7: The Clock Tower

Chapter -7-  
Clock Tower

**The large cogs rotated** on either side of the staircase. Justus stopped in the doorway, looking up into the abysmal gloom of darkness, stretching into the vast ceiling. He glanced back at Molly and frowned. "You're positive we should go _up_?"

Molly ran her fingers up through her hair, pushing her dark bangs out of her eyes. "This is where James and I split up. He claimed that Dracula's throne room was accessible by going up this way. He said there would be no traps in the clock tower, but it would be dangerous, just the same. But it makes more sense, according to him, to struggle over gears and moving cogs that you can see, then to fend off traps you can't. I have a feeling we'll be able to find him if we go up to the throne room. He also mentioned one other thing."

"Go on."

She shifted her knapsack, locking the flap. She began re-threading her belt through small loops sewn on the bottom side of the pouch, to keep it secure to her hip. She continued, looking up at the werewolf every so often, while working the belt and re-clasping the buckle. "This tower was written to be guarded by some sort of "were animal", a little like you. He jumped from the top to save some guy, who was part wolf or something. Anyhow. We should be able to take a corridor leading from the throne room, down to the main foyer, without any traps."

"I know the guy you're talking about," Justus said. "I've already crossed paths with him. He won't give us any trouble. So, why can't we just go to the foyer and take the un-trapped hallway up to the Throne Room?"

"I asked Mister Johnson the same thing," she said with a sigh. "He told me to try if it I felt so bold as to ignore his advice. That's why we split up. I don't know if he went through the tower or not. So, I found the hallway and quickly found out that the stairs turn into a ramp if you try to ascend them. Spikes come out of the walls and, when I tried to use them to pull myself up the flat concrete surface, I quickly learned that asps drop from the ceiling. You have to go down."

"Asps?" Justus tilted his head, laying his ears back. His whiskers eased back along the length of his muzzle and his bushy dark gray brows furrowed overtop of the light gray fur of his face. "As in _snakes_?"

"As in _snakes_," Molly replied. "Give me a boost," she added. Justus put his paws out, palm up and the girl placed her foot into his grasp. "I'm trusting you, so don't try and kill me."

Justus face faulted, glaring at her. His ears remained laid for another moment then perked up, above his head. "You _shot_ me and I didn't _eat_ you. Obviously, you have trust issues."

Molly sighed, thinking of the contraband in her bag. She paid her groceries off of her illegal deliveries; Dracula's Castle became nothing more than a roadblock to her. "You learn not to trust _anyone_ when you carry." She cleared her voice then corrected herself. "When you are a _courier_, I mean. I stay off the radar by walking the fields of lower Romania to make my drops. Bucharest drops are worth four times as much as my normal routes because I'm often taking crazy shit to the University. Stuff they consider paranormal."

Justus tilted his head, wondering about the relationship between paranormal objects in Wallachia and the location of the castle. "Do you have something paranormal with you now?"

"I don't know," she muttered with a frown. "Part of me trusts you," she said, "Or I wouldn't have my foot in your hand right now." She began to boost herself up, putting her other foot on his shoulder. "But yeah, I have a stolen diamond hidden inside of a bag of opium. I'm not supposed to know it's in there, but I check my cargo then carefully reseal it. This diamond is a goddamn underworld legend and I had to research the background. It's some evil freakin' shit, if you ask me."

"Go on, I'm listening," Justus said, hoisting her up to a maintenance ledge next to a large spinning cog. Ruts in the concrete were specially paved and grooved for holding a repairman's ladder in place. Molly pulled herself up to the ledge with a grunt then turned around and reached down for his paw.

Molly hooked her ankles around either side of a pole designed for a repairman's safety harness. "I don't know how well I'll be able to lift you. I wedged my feet into a safety harness pole, so see if you can pull yourself up on my hand. Careful with your wound and all."

"I've got it; just tell me about your diamond." He put his foot on a large gear to the left, which spun with the speed of a second hand. It lifted him high enough to grab the ledge after only twelve seconds, at six large turns.

"Well, this diamond in a Washington DC Museum, is just over nine grams. It's called the Hope Diamond, but it has a history in France. I think it was uncovered in India, in Golconda. Now, here's some Vampire Lore for you, right from James Johnson… Golconda is the name of Vampire Heaven. If you're able to break the curse of blood drinking, you live in a state of harmony known as Golconda. If you master your state of Harmony, you return to life, as a normal human being. You live out your life, then you die and go to heaven. So, the diamond was dug up in Golconda, India. It was about twenty-two and a half grams in size, when they found it."

"Right," Justus said, adding, "That's the diamond that Louis the 16th and Marie Antoinette owned, right? Then, supposedly, the curse caused a bunch of crap, they died, a bunch of owners down the line died, save for maybe one or two of them, and supposedly an iteration of the DC Museum burned down; the fire started in the room that housed the diamond, but it wasn't tarnished when recovered from the fire, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, and supposedly you can't take a clear photograph of it, yet there are photos of it all over the internet," Molly said, standing up and reaching for another gear which turned slowly. There were pegs on the side, which she used as footholds, hoisting herself upwards. "But if the Hope Diamond is nine grams and it was originally found in India at twenty-two and a half grams, then how much was hacked off in the cutting? Plenty."

Justus nodded in reply then bent his knees. He took a moment to ready himself for the pain of the wound in his gut, then jumped upwards. He hoisted himself up to the next ledge. "I'm following you. So, you've got another piece from the original full diamond, and it's considered paranormal, right?"

"In the year Sixteen Sixty-Eight, Louis the fifteenth had it cut down to thirteen and a half grams. So, where did the other _half_ of the diamond go?"

"You got me," said Justus, offering his paws out. Without so much as breaking in her story, she put her left foot up on his padded palms and continued up to the next ledge.

Molly made her way up then took a short breather. "It's the other half, here. I've got the twin, which is nine and a half grams, slightly larger than the Hope Diamond. The jeweler, who cut it, Sieur Pitau, actually cut it in half. He shaped the first half and gave it to the king to use for display. The other half was given to the king in a broach. Louis the 16th sold the diamond to a rich merchant who returned it to India. The diamond was placed into the eye of the sculpted idol of the Hindu goddess, Sita. The legend got all screwed up and people claim that the whole thing was stolen out of the Hindu statue's eye. But only my half ever got stolen out of a statue. Anyway, the whole piece was the Travernier Blue, but when cut, one half became The French Blue, or the Blue Diamond of the Crown. My half became the eye of a statue. The other eye was a sapphire of equal size. They almost matched."

She continued to climb again, using another gear. It elevated her to a rotating cog. The rotating metal disc spanned twelve feet, allowing her to move to the other end of the tower, so that she could ascend the facing wall. "Anyhow, the Hindu statue got robbed for both eyes. But they were both sold by an idiot of a thief, who thought that both jewels were sapphires. The guy who bought 'em was probably happy as hell to have paid for two sapphires and one of them turn out to be a big-ass diamond."

"So how is it paranormal?" Justus asked, leaping out to the rotating disc. He hung precariously, throwing his left leg up over the side. It continued to spin, bringing him closer to the perpendicular gear. He knew he had to hurry or risk getting crushed. With Molly's help, he scrambled up over the side, onto the flat disc. "And does it have a name?"

"Not really," she said. "Most assumed that the French jeweler who cut it turned the scraps into small diamonds for other jewelry. But eleven years ago, a scientist in Madrid, Spain, was able to get both diamonds side by side. He conducted the tests that proved both were the same diamond at one time. He died four hours after returning the Hope Diamond. But, if you ask me," she ran her fingers through her hair, "neither are cursed. He was probably killed for the other diamond, which was on him at the time. Obviously, whoever killed him took the unnamed Twin Blue Diamond. It went back underground. Eventually, it resurfaced and some rich guy is paying me to bring it to Bucharest. I trust he won't kill me, because I've brought him stuff before. Besides, he doesn't know I know it's packed in the opium. He's paying me double what he normally gives me and, like I said earlier, a Bucharest University run is normally five times my normal catch. So, this is a really big chunk of change. If I play my cards right and manipulate him into paying me more because of the diamond, then I could probably retire from being a courier. This guy is independently wealthy and has the cash."

Justus glanced up into the dark abyss then leaned over the side, peering down three stories to the platform where they'd entered the tower. "Sounds interesting. So why is it paranormal or cursed? Did you find that out, while researching it?"

"Hell yeah, I did," she said. "But I don't believe in that sort of crap."

"C'mon, what did you learn?" he asked.

Molly stood up again and leapt from the spinning disc, onto another ledge, ascending an old stone staircase. "They call it the Vampire's Diamond. It was mounted to the tip of a silver stake, used by an oriental vampire hunting clan, and used to kill vampires throughout China and India. Eventually, one of the vampires obtained it and had the entire clan of hunters killed. Their entire bloodline was wiped out. The legend gets silly, but whatever," she continued, with Justus following her up the steps. "Supposedly it fell into the 'paws' of a Kumiho, a Korean fox spirit, and became the source of the creature's power."

She lowered to a crawl, ascending the old stone staircase, on all fours. She peered over the side, frowning at the sheer drop. The stones jutted less than half a meter out of the wall. "Anyhow, it turned up in Japan, known as the Hoshi-no-tama diamond. Then, in the mid Eighteen hundreds, it turned up missing. To this day, its theft is still on record as the guard claiming he saw a five-tailed fox steal it and run off. An outside guard had the same claim and yet the two guards hated one another. So it was assumed that, because their stories matched, it must have been true. The diamond showed up in Bucharest, Romania fifty years later. Then it disappeared on and off for several years, rumored to be used as a Boon Stone by vampires. They would hand it to one another as a reminder that they owned someone a favor or something. Not quite sure how that worked. And now I have it and plan to take it back to Bucharest, but I'm not supposed to know I even have it."

"What makes it appeal to vampires? I mean, it was used to kill them," Justus said, keeping his eyes on her to ensure her safety. The two continued up the slim staircase. "Anything at all?"

"I don't know," Molly replied, carefully taking one step at a time. "But if you hold it under a black light, it turns red. The Hope Diamond does that, too. Ultraviolet light causes it to glow with a sort of red phosphorescence. So, it's nothing special, like … vampire blood makes it turn red, or any of that crap. Both diamonds do it, because of all the elements within the diamond. There's like, one called boron and another called… well, I don't remember the other one. But yeah, it turns red under a black light. Who knows if that has anything to do with why Vampires use it as a trading stone."

"That's really rather interesting," Justus said, fluidly moving up the slender staircase. "How red?"

"I don't know about the Hope, but I assume they're the same," she started, pausing to eye a nearby ledge, near the top of the staircase. "But this one turns so damn red that it looks like a ruby held up to a candle."

"Weird." He arched up and peered over her shoulder. "Looks like the staircase has collapsed beyond this point. That gear looks to be moving pretty quick, but it looks safe to stand on. You wanna make a jump for it?"

Molly nodded. She glanced over her shoulder and noted Justus' emphatic looking expression and offered a scolding one in return. She despised this tower. "It'll be like jumping onto a moving merry-go-round. Let's do it." The moving gear didn't look so dangerous, but she knew that things would be moving faster up near the top, because they would be transferring energy to a massive second hand, on the outside of the clock tower, closer to the top.

She peered back down, unable to see the bottom. "I'd say we're about five stories up. I think the tower is ten stories tall, but it sits on an elevated section of rock, so it towers pretty high on the outside. I was only paying partial attention to Mister Johnson, when he talked about this thing. I thought I'd be bypassing this stupid tower."

"Life is unfair, isn't it?" Justus returned with an offered grin. "All right, I'll go first, you jump behind me." He stood up, slowly, then put his back to the wall. He lifted his right leg and placed his heel firmly against the wall, eyeing the flat, spinning disc. "Here we go!" he announced, leaping out into the open. Justus collapsed on the disc, on his hip, opposite of his injury. He groaned from the unceremonious landing. The world around him began to spin. He pushed his palms against the flat disc, staring at one of the pegs at the edge, to focus. It took a moment for the dizziness to end; by the time he got his bearings, Molly joined him at the center.

Unlike Justus, the spinning didn't affect her equilibrium. She walked to the edge, crouched down and waited for the opportune moment to leap to the ledge on the wall across from the crumbling stone stairs. She leaned back against the wall, looking relaxed.

Justus crept to the edge and rotated his head to keep his sights on the platform. He waited, spinning about twice before feeling ready to jump. He put his foot up on one of the pegs and pushed off, careening into the wall, besides her. The man beast slumped down on the ledge and reached up to cup his paws over his eyes. "Give me a second. I've lost a lot of blood and that's a factor behind getting dizzy on those damn things."

Molly gave him a cheerful pat on the head. Seeing him at a disadvantage helped her to trust him. Something about seeing a man's weakness often made women feel comfortable. "Take your time; we're about sixty percent up. We're making good progress… Justus, right?"

"You got it, Molly." The werewolf reached up and wrapped his fingers around his left and right ears, breathing slowly.

"What're you doing?"

"Balance is affected most by your hearing. I'm holding my ears until the world stops spinning. My sports coach used to tell us to do that if we got hit really hard and felt dizzy. We'd reach up, hold onto our earlobes and, damn if it didn't work. So, I'm trying the same thing."

Molly felt something against her back and glanced down, at the wall behind her. Gnarled fingers reached from the wall, causing her eyes to widen. She opened her mouth to call out to Justus but her voice failed. For once in her life, she couldn't speak. Her lower jaw quivered, moving to the edge of the concrete platform. The fingers continued to ease out of the wall, like a Hollywood trick. The massive, gnarled, old hand thrust forward, all the way to the wrist. The fingers wrapped around her body, to keep her from falling over the ledge.

The palm extended from her shoulders, down to her knees. Just as Justus began to recover and look up, she found her voice and shouted his name. He stood up quick, a clear look in his eyes, and plunged his claws into the large wrist emanating from the wall. The massive hand didn't bleed. He continued to chop and stab at the wrist, only to realize that it began to sink back into the wall.

He retargeted his claws on the fingers, trying to stab through them, to pull her from the hand's grasp, but the injuries had no effect on the knobby, contorted flesh. It pulled her into the wall with ease and yet Justus found himself clawing at the solid wall, unable to get to her.

He collapsed to his haunches, just glaring at the stone wall. In the background, the massive gears continued to click and grind, filling the tower with their ambient rhythm.

Justus pushed his paw against the wall one last time then sighed in frustration. Un-rhythmic scrapping joined the fray, causing his ears to flicker. He glanced up and frowned. Monsters seemed to step from the walls, now patrolling the ledges and stairways. He closed his paws into fists. "Not as dangerous, huh?" He withdrew the Taurus pistol from beneath his cloak and knelt down on the ledge to take aim. He wanted to take down as many enemies as he could, before climbing up.

He peered down the barrel and lined up the sights then fired. The noise, swallowed up by the ambient clicking of the gears, still caused his ears to lower. He flinched from the crack of the sound each time. His first round tore through the skull of a skeleton, knocking its jaw from the head. Justus fired again, leaving a crack in the skull but the skeleton didn't seem to be fazed.

The werewolf tightened his jaw and aimed higher to a zombie on the ledge. He fired two shots into the flesh of the zombie's torso. The police-issue rounds acted as they were designed to act. They opened wide on impact, tearing two large holes in the torso of the zombie. It threw the corpse back against the wall but the body still showed signs of life.

Frustrated, Justus eased the weapon upwards, lined up a shot and put a bullet into the zombie's head, smashing in side of the face. To his surprise, the monster seemed agitated, still ambling around on the ledge. He lifted the weapon, singling out another undead beast and opening fire until the gun clicked softly in protest. He reached beneath the cloak and withdrew a magazine, releasing the empty one and slapping the fresh clip home in the handle.

"A gun?" The voice belonged to Ortega. "You brought a gun with you? Are you sure you're of Cornell's blood? What fool brings a gun to fight the undead? Those are designed to inflict pain, slow an enemy or bring about the death of mortals. How do you inflict pain on those who cannot feel?"

Justus looked over his shoulder. "You…"

"Indeed, it's me. What kind of fool are you, boy? I've nearly lost respect for you. You have _claws_! Haven't you tasted blood with them, yet?"

"I have, but," Justus sighed. "I'm going to be struggling up the side of this damned tower. I'd like to pick off my opponents _now_. It's a strategic safety measure, if you ask me."

"You're wasting your ammunition!" Ortega laughed. Justus paused to look over the dead beast again then frowned. Ortega hovered against the wall, in the open, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. His feet disappeared into the voice, his legs floating like the apparition he appeared to be. "The Chinese invented gunpowder for use in small rocks. It was nearly two hundred years before my time. The Muskets of my day put a ball the size of a thumbnail into your flesh if the gun hit its target. It hurt but wasn't enough to kill a were-beast like myself."

"Look at the holes in that Zombie!" Justus shouted, pointing up to a ledge with an injured undead being.

Ortega snorted with disgust. "I see; he looks very animated." The beast shook his head and said, "I see you met Scylla. Did you…?"

"Did I _what_?" Justus snapped, replacing the weapon in the belt, beneath his cloak. "Do anything with her? What makes you ask?"

"The clothes you're wearing," Ortega replied, offering a smirk. "I recognize them. The last time I saw them, they were on the back of a man she seduced. But if you're actually wearing them and she let you live, then she must have taken a liking to you."

"Let's not talk about her, all right? I know your body is down there in her chamber, somewhere. I'll do what I can to find it, later." Justus dashed forward, leaping off the ledge and onto a massive clockwork cog. Perched on a gear groove, the large metal cast-iron disc lifted him into the air. Justus jumped away from the gear towards an occupied ledge. His cloak billowed out beneath him and he withdrew his paws from his sides, crossing his arms in the reverse motion of a swimmer's breaststroke.

His claws diced through the skeleton, shattering the ribs. Bones, white like starch, exploded in all directions. Justus landed on the ledge, bringing his knee into the pelvis of the skeleton warrior, knocking it from the stone edge. It struck a gear a few stories down, becoming crushed between two cogs.

The metal mechanisms of the clockwork mansion never missed a beat, thundering out the next massive noise every sixty seconds. The simple rhythm of each second seemed to be accompanied by the softer cadence between each second stroke. The noise sounded like percussive genius in a time signature of four beats by four measures. Each gear and cog made a distinctive sound. Like congas over the beat of a drum set, the clock tower continued its unforgiving beat in an emotionless rhythm of perfection.

"You've not got far," Ortega said from somewhere behind. Justus ignored the voice for now. He stepped onto a nearby disc that brought him around to a spinning vertical gear disc. The werewolf stepped onto a waterwheel-sized gear, kneeling in a groove on the side. It lifted him upwards. His fur rustled softly, being projected straight up. The rustling fur and billowing cape danced about his body, animating him beyond the stoic expression on his muzzle. He folded his arms, waiting for the ride to end.

It lifted him upwards to a massive pendulum that swung from one wall to the other, bringing the power of gravity to power the gears. Massive weights hung from chains in the background. Justus leapt from the gear and wrapped his paws around the metal shaft, above the large round section at the bottom. It took a moment of struggle but Justus pulled his body up until his feet met the metal weight at the bottom of the shaft. He held tight to the shaft.

The swinging pendulum brought him close to one of the weighs used to counterbalance the moving of the second hand on the outside top of the tower. The weight, now off balance, began to lift, resetting itself higher on the tower. It carried him up, passing the zombie on one of the ledges, he'd shot at earlier. The zombie reached for him. He reached out with his right paw, pushing his claws into the beast's forehead and pulling. The zombie jerked about, slipping off the edge.

With a twist of his wrist, Justus released his clawed grip on the zombie's forehead, allowing it to fall into the void. The weight continued to take him upwards another full story. He stepped from the weight onto a set of stone pegs that lined the wall and began to ascend the seventh story of the tower, now able to see the vague image of the tenth floor at the top.

A semi-hollowed out floor covered this portion. Holes for the weights and several gears were cut into the stone. Justus took a moment to catch his breath on the seeming safe floor. After only his first pant, something began to materialize from the wall. His eyes narrowed, watching the emergence. Two partially decomposed dragon heads pushed through the stone bricks, as if they were only a mesh screen in its way.

The disheveled scales and dreary split ends of the tousled mane above each head suggested that these beasts were recycled enemies, reanimated after their defeat at the hands of another. Justus narrowed his gaze. "I'm tired of getting scraps," he said. He leapt at the dragon heads. He put his left foot on the first head, drawing his paws back to strike at the second, but he'd not anticipated their speed. The second head jerked to the left, swatting him away like a fly.

He rolled to a stop on the stone platform, favoring his injury with a paw. One of the dragon heads opened its gnarled maw, hissing in anger. A foul smelling chemical came from its throat, creating a wavy haze. The hiss-crackle of a spark coming to live sounded inside the dragon's muzzle.

Justus's eyes widened and, somehow, he instinctively knew to dive away. A plume of fire rushed towards him. With nowhere to hide, he drew the cloak around himself. The fire seemed to roll off the cape, redirected with ease by the fire-deflective material. A corner caught in a nearby gear that emerged from the floor, on the left side. The material tugged him towards the cog's groove and he had to roll towards the gear to unhook the fabric before it could further jerk him towards the floor. He sat up on his knee, looking at the floor where small splotches of fire crackled on the stone platform.

The second head spit out small flaming balls of burning napalm-like saliva wads. Justus blinked, realizing that the gear, which caught his cloak, had saved him from being targeted by the second head's attack. The first head opened its mouth again, inhaling a deep breath of oxygen.

Justus reached to his lower back, withdrawing the Taurus pistol again. He plugged to rounds into the dragon's mouth, tearing two holes in its neck, but didn't faze it otherwise. The spark flashed in front of the dragon head's uvula and, with ease, it belched fire. However, from the holes in its neck, a miasma of flairs escaped through its neck. The fire immediate trailed over its rotted scaly neck, engulfing the entire first head.

Flames licked upwards, along the wall. The second head eased away from the partner, but the flames crept down the lengthy neck of the first, to where the scaled necks met. Out of frustration, the flaming head lunged forth in an attempt to bite at the werewolf. Justus leapt over the head. His legs came out from beneath him and he tucked them beneath himself. Executing a sloppy somersault, the beast kicked his legs back out, bounding off a nearby wall. He withdrew his claws and dove downwards towards the second head.

Justus' claws plunged deeply into the skull of the rotted secondary dragon head, falling atop of it with an unceremonious collapse. The were-beast put his feet against the floor then shifted with all of his body weight, forcing the two heads to collide.

The flaming first head caused the mane of the second head to catch. Justus spied a ledge above him and ran towards the wall. He put his left foot on the concrete and made an attempt to use his inertia to carry him up the wall. Ignoring the pain in his gut, he extended his arms and closed his fingers around the granite ledge.

The second head swung out, striking him in the ribs, just above his wound. The connection tossed him from the ledge. Justus sprawled across the platform floor, below. He rolled onto his back, over by the wall, panting and wheezing. The cloak wrapped around his waist, binding his arms down.

Unable to defend himself for the moment, he rolled away, evading another physical attack by the angry second head. Fire lined its head, where only the hair of its mane managed to catch. Young Bell, the athletic built Belmont-blooded survivor that he was, fumbled about, trying to get to his knees. With the weight of his body off of the jumbled cape, it dropped back to where it belonged… his back. He lifted his arms out and dashed towards the two dragon heads, again.

Like before, he plunged his claws into the second dragon head's neck, then used his body weight to slam the two heads together. The fully engulfed first head caused flames to catch along the side of the second dragon's neck. The wall, where their necks emanated, now burned with the splattered jelly of their saliva and blood.

The second head, now enraged, jerked its head about, catching Justus beneath the jaw. The brunt force trauma of the attack sent Justus into the opposite wall so hard that slumping down the concrete felt much like being peeled off of the granite surface. He opened his eyes, staring at the Taurus pistol in front of him, resting on the platform. He snatched it up and opened fire on the second head, trying to hit it in the face.

"That's it," Ortega said from out of nowhere with a sarcastic tone. "Just keep shooting it, so that you're fighting a Holy Dragon. Are you an idiot? I was so proud of you, using your claws, then you go back to that stupid metallic contraption."

The second dragon head opened its mouth and inhaled. As soon as it attempted to spit fire, a thick flash of orange came from the holes in its neck, engulfing it in flames, like its twin. Justus replaced the gun in his belt, turning to Ortega with a smirk. "They're both leaking flame spit out of their necks. See? The gun isn't such a bad idea, after all."

"You should have used your claws to decapitate them!" Ortega shouted. "You're wasting your time with this childish pet! When I faced it, before giving my body to Dracula, I tore both heads off the full body, right from the neck. That's why you're only facing the neck up, because I decapitated the heads and destroyed the body. The heads are all that's left. That's what you're facing… my leftover table scraps! You're embarrassing Cornell!"

"Shut the hell up about him," Justus shouted. "Stop comparing me! He trained his whole life with his abilities. I've had them a day! Either shut your mouth or tell me where I can find the girl."

"The one with Dracula's Diamond?" Ortega asked. He chuckled, sitting on the floor near the flaming heads. While thrashing around, one of them passed through his tenebrous body and out the other side. "She shouldn't have brought that diamond back to Wallachia. She claims she did research, so what was she thinking, bringing that stupid stone into this part of Romania?"

"Where is she?" Justus shouted. He drew his fist back and plunged his claws into the snout of the second dragon head, then pulled his other fist back, shoving his dagger-like nails into the snout of the first dragon head. He pulls his arms apart them clapped them together, forcing the two flaming heads to slam into one another with such tremendous force that it cracked the skulls of both opponents with a sickening sound.

He pulled his arms back, saving them from the heat of the flaming heads. Justus then drew his foot back and kicked the first one in the chin. His foot connected with such powerful force that the head careened into the granite wall and left a cracked marking in the stones. Fueled by rage and adrenaline, Justus got to his feet again. The first head opened its mouth once more but the werewolf moved quick.

He shoved his claws in between the eyes of the semi-engulfed first head and used the sharp nails of his other paw, jamming them into the jaw. With all the muscle in his shoulders and back, he forced the first head to face the second, just as it ignited its saliva. A large ball of flame gushed out over the second dragon head, melting the flesh and scales off of its face.

Ortega's voice cackled with delight. "That's it! See, use your natural weapon! Trust in your body and your powers!"

Justus, remembering that his cloak protected him from a blast of fire, moments ago, withdraw his claws and reached for the fabric. He pulled it out like a blanket, beneath his right arm, and wrapped it around the first head, to dampen the flames. Then, he wrapped his arms around the head, using his cloak as a shroud around the first head. He put his legs on the wall and arched his back. With all of his body strength, the muscular lupine tore the head out of the wall and flung it into the nearby gear that came up out of the platform. The neck rolled into the grooves of the gear disc, dragging it down into the floor after breaking the neck in two places. Once beneath the platform, the head fell into the abyss, disappearing in a freefall.

The second head, now fully overcome by fire, flailed about in a listless manner, swallowed by flames. Justus backed away then sprinted towards the head, full on. He planted his feet atop of the dragon's nose and used it as a platform in which to boost himself up to the ledge above. He threw his arms out, catching the stone edge then kicked his legs up to pull himself onto the protrusion. The stone shelf held his weight; he rolled onto it, reaching his paws down to cradle his wounded abs. For now, Justus took a moment to catch his breath, sitting on the cold stone ridge, high above the remaining dragon head.

"Are you really going to leave that thing alive?" Ortega asked.

"You've already killed it, so what does it matter?" the boy animal shot back. "Furthermore, it's burning to death. What's the point of giving a damn?"

Ortega nodded, rubbing at his chin. "Fair enough. I'll be around. I don't know where the girl is; I'll find out what I know." The were-lion offered a smile. "You have a long way to go before you're strong enough to fight all the creatures in this castle. You wouldn't have destroyed me. I assumed the form of a three-headed chimera, boy. The Eagle's beak would have pecked out your eyes, the dragon's jaw would have crushed your ribs and the lion's teeth would have torn your legs apart. I was a fearsome creature."

"Fierce but defeated by Cornell, right?" Justus panted. "You talk too much. I'll see you again, when you find out where Molly is being kept. Her life is a priority over your body, so you'd better find her quick."

Ortega tightened his face and narrowed his eyes. After a moment of glaring, he vanished.

Justus, still favoring the flesh-wound above his hip bone, closed his eyes and thought to himself, '_Now to get the rest of the way out of this stupid tower and look for James. Maybe he'll know something. Molly said he was knowledgeable; maybe I can use his help in finding her. But he'll just run when he sees me again. Being a werewolf has its disadvantages.'_

For now, however, Justus knew he had to find a source of hydration. Heading back to the water beneath the castle would require backtracking. He needed something now. His hopes for finding water in the throne room remained strong. He still had two more floors to scale before he would arrive at the tower bridge, leading up to the throne.

"If this is all because of that stupid diamond," he said to himself, muttering a vituperative string of curses beneath his breath.

* * *

A/N: _Okay, I kept it to a level. I gave it some game-like design. I gave him a mini boss with a pattern for attack (him whacking their heads together, them having one head that breathed a plume of flames, the other spit globs of fireballs.) I also did a little research on the Hope Diamond, then the curse and finally started putting pieces together as to why the Castle found the power to return. We'll cross paths with James again, real soon. Not sure what his story is just yet… maybe he accidentally got sucked into the solar eclipse when the castle was plucked out of the Earth Realm, because his home was a little too close. Or maybe there is something more to him, seeing that he is fairly knowledgeable of a castle he claims in the first chapter was impenetrable. We'll see. I gotta get a feel for it. _

_ANYway, most Castlevania games DO have a clock tower. I remember playing Castlevania 64 and struggling with Reinhardt to get through the mechanical tower with the platforms and crap. Ah, memories. I can just remember back to games where the music would occasionally synchronize with the rhythmic turning of the gears. …_

_Hopefully the story is picking up since the boring beginning. I overloaded the reader with a ton of history back at the beginning, so whoever has made it this far, I'm glad you're still reading! _

_There will be more information on James, Julius, the nuclear strike against the Castle's magic seal, what happened to the Turkish Prime Minister and… all that stuff. I always tie up my loose ends. And, maybe I'll even have Justus run into another embarrassing session with Scylla. I thought it was a funny scene. _

_Thanks, again, for reading! I appreciate people letting me know when they enjoyed a chapter or if they're enjoying the story, or letting me know if there is something in particular they want to see happen in the story. So let me know if you readers are still with me! Again, thank you for reading this story, thus far! _

_-Kit _


	9. Chapter 8: Dracula's Diamond

Chapter -8-  
"Dracula's Stone"

**The injured werewolf** leaned against a mirrored wall, panting from lack of blood. He clinched his teeth together to keep them from chattering due to the chill that racked through him. The dizzy youth placed the back of his paw against his forehead and stumbled against the reflective wall, leaving a smear of blood on the glassy surface at hip level.

He glanced off of the mirror and stumbled again. Justus stopped in the middle of the room with a sigh and turned to face the mirrored wall. He lifted his shirt, gazing at the wound above his appendix. The sanguine trail of blood matted his fur from just beneath his rib down to his waistline. Something rustled the soft strands of fur on the side of his neck. His eyes flitted back to the mirror but he saw nothing. He cut his amber orbs, looking in the reflection for something like a window that might have caused his fur to ripple in such a way. The hall appeared windowless; not so much as a vent; nothing physical appeared in the mirror. His ears flickered at the sound of fabric brushing against something. It was a soft noise; it resembled ashes being strewn against rice paper.

His new instincts seized his body and adrenaline filled his weary form. Justus jerked his right elbow back and pivoted on his heel. His bicep met a young man in the neck which smashed the man's Adam's apple. The neonate vampire stumbled back, hitting the opposite wall with a grunt.

"What the hell…?" Justus glared at the lone boy, no older than sixteen.

The kid stood up in the hallway but cast no reflection on the reflective surface behind him. "Where is the stone," he demanded, reaching to his throat as if loosening a tight necktie. "And where is the girl?"

"You don't know?" Justus replied with his own inquiry. He thrust both of his paws out then froze; his claws stopped against the rookie vampire's torso, threatening to impale the humanoid's abs. "Do you want your intestines all over the floor?"

"I doubt I still have them," replied the teenager. "I've been a vampire for so long, I'm sure they've probably rotted away. So where is the _stone_, beast? Your claws won't kill the undead, _Fido_."

Justus narrowed his gaze further then inched his paws forward, drawing blood from the neonate vampire. "I still have a difficult time believing in vampires but if you're the real deal, you're _not_ at the top of the food chain, buddy."

"I'm further up than you," said the teenager with a smile. He stepped forward, impaling himself on Bell's claws. The vampire winced slightly but returned with a tight smile. "See? You can't hurt me. So, you're the new beast on the block. Rumor has it you _just_ transformed today. Scylla says you're still a little on the naïve side… just the way we like… I heard you popped your cherry; made your first kill today. Congratulations."

Bell snarled, curling his top lip up to show his fangs. "We're not friends and we're not on the same side," Justus said. He jerked his forearms up, slamming his claws all the way into the young Vampire's gut then forced the leach's body up against the wall so that his feet were suspended two feet off the ground. The werewolf struggled to lift from the pain in his abs but kept his stern expression in an attempt to look stoic. "So, head game aside, _where_ is Molly?"

"Last I heard she was with you in the Clock Tower," said the Vampire, squirming slightly from the odd sensation of the claws in his abdomin. They rested against the bottom of his ribcage, leaving four inch gashes across the length of his bowels. "Your fancy fingernails are really rather _cold_, Fido."

"The name is Justus Bell…-Mont."

"Belmont?" asked the vampire. "As in the Vampire Hunter Clan? They have werewolves in their family? First I've heard of it."

"I heard Vampires can't survive decapitation," Justus retorted. "Unless you want to experience it, I suggest you talk." He leaned forward, canted his head to the right and opened his muzzle. He clamped his jaw down over the rookie bloodsucker's throat.

"You're quite correct," the vampire said in a quick and nervous tone. "We can't survive a beheading. Very _few_ beings _can_ survive such – all of which are insects." Justus bared down, breaking the skin beneath his fangs. The vampire, growing alarmed, said, "You don't want to do that. You'd be drinking my blood and, while that won't transform you unless I drain you first, it's still a dangerous game for you to play."

Justus straightened his legs and extended his animalistic ankles then craned his neck, allowing the vampiric blood to drain from his muzzle. It dripped down the front of his chin. He tightened his jaw further; blood ran down the vampire's collarbone, soaking its shirt. The young vampire reached up and grasped the lupine's muzzle, trying to keep Justus from biting any harder. Bell replied to physical force by clamping down further.

"STOP!" cried the teenager, adding, "I have information you may need concerning the stone she has. If she's not with you and she's not been captured by _us_, then there's something far more sinister going on because _we_ don't have her!"

Justus released his neck and pivoted on his right heel. He forced his arms out and threw the injured vampire into the opposite wall with tremendous force. The neonate cracked the mirrored surface and dropped to the floor with a grunt. He sat up on his knees and reached for his throat. "You're really a Belmont? Where's your whip, Vampire Hunter?"

Justus took a moment to salivate, trying to rinse his fangs with backwash. He turned to the left and spit a wad of red onto the floor. "Your blood is cold and tastes like… Well I can't describe the taste but it makes me feel weird… so I guess I believe you now. What is that stone and why would anyone want it?"

The neonate bloodsucker sat up on his rump, his legs half-tucked beneath him. "In the year Dracula was defeated, Julius Belmont stormed the castle with such ferocity that our forces were torn apart. He was only nineteen years old and we didn't take him seriously. It was quite humbling. Dracula possessed the Vampire's Stone at the time and invoked a blood ritual to put his essence into the stone. Julius wasn't a priest and because Dracula wasn't given his Last Rites, his soul became reincarnated. But the essence of his _evil and hate_ live on in this stone; they were never passed on - his reborn soul has Original Sin, of course, but wasn't a vessel of his iniquity. If any Vampire comes into contact with the stone, they will be given the _essence_ of Dracula. We want to find Alucard and force him to take possession of it… if we _can't_ use it on him, we'll _settle_ for Countess Bathory. However, if we can put that much hatred and evil into someone as powerful as Alucard …It would restore the Tepes Legacy. He's _here_. The castle recognizes his presence. The countess has spotted him and she wants the blood stone to herself. The rest of us, while afraid of her abilities, want the power to go to Dracula's wayward son."

"Why is he wayward?"

"He attacked the _Castle _several hundred years ago," said the vampire youth. "I suspect he even helped Soma Cruz, nearly a decade ago. He's no stranger to these walls. The Countess is angry that we conspire against her and so she's surrounded herself with her closest allies and outcast the rest of the Castle's demons. There is a power struggle going on and you're in the middle of it. The Castle's hierarchy structure has crumbled in only three days, since the girl entered. This castle normally remains in a dark spirit realm beyond the veil of the umbra but it appeared to capture the girl. Now there are two factions; haven't you spoken to any monsters who've spoken ill of the Countess?"

Justus blinked. "Scylla spoke _very_ poorly of the Countess and one of her henchmen. So if _your_ side doesn't have Molly then the Countess must have her, which means _she_ must have the stone."

"Now you're getting it," said the vampire. "You're _not_ a human. Help our side win back the Castle for the Tepes name and the Order of the Dragon. Without order and structure, the Turkish soldiers have been vying to take the Castle; they're everywhere."

"I saw," said Justus with a frown. "I'm not on _your_ side. I saw the Turkish Soldiers, but they've been dead for centuries…. They're zombified corpses wearing brittle armor. Are they attacking because the two sides can't come together to fend them off? I don't understand."

The young vampire remained quiet for a moment. Justus put his claws to the vampire's neck and growled in a low tone. The vampire cringed, scooting up against the wall again. He cleared his throat and explained, "Just as we are eternal, the twenty-thousand impaled Turks killed by Dracula have tried to attack us throughout the last several centuries. Belmonts, Graves', Morris' Belnades' and the Townsfolk aren't the _only_ fools to try and stop us. Amusingly enough, the towns of the land have long since forgotten us and now Dracula is celebrated as a local hero throughout Romania. But just the same, why do you think Dracula always had an army of monsters protecting his castle at any given moment? He kept his forces strong to fend off his _many_ enemies, natural and supernatural alike. However, the supernatural forces were never able to achieve success and always withdrew when human forces interfered. This time, however, they're trying to seize the opportunity to use this time of chaos against us. The only way to kill them permanently is by decapitation or complete dismemberment."

"And why are you helping me?" Justus curled his top lip again, displaying his pearly incisors.

"Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend," said the vampire in an attempt at diplomacy.

Justus face faulted with a groan. "There's only one way to prove that we're not friends." The vampire blinked twice then, in realization of what the wolf was suggesting, he bared his fangs defensively. Bell reached out to either side of his head and cupped it into his palms and muttered, "Give me a break; you call those fangs?" Then, without thinking further into his next action, his instincts took over and he jerked his wrists. The sickening pop of snapping vertebrae shocked the responsible werewolf; the young vampire's head slumped in a limp manner to the left.

The neonate rolled his eyes. "You _can't_ kill the undead, dog of Belmont." His body became limp, held aloft by the massive padded palms still on either side of his face. The lupine jerked his paws away from the vampire's cheeks, offended by what he'd just done. He flopped back against the wall, leaning against it. The situation caused the vampire to chortle. "Look at you… a born killer with all the right moves who is _shocked and appalled_ by his own fantastic ability to kill. You're an irony to yourself. Look at you; a monster with humanity. What a moron - I told you I'm undead. You broke my neck and in a moment, I'll have healed it." His body slumped the rest of the way down the wall, unable to move his arms and legs yet.

"What… the hell?" Justus backed away from the teenage-looking young man. He was shocked that he could kill so swiftly without regard and, at the same time, he knew that should have ended anyone's life. Everything felt strange. Was Uncle Julius' claim about vampires _real_?

The bloodsucker slowly lifted his head; his neck mended itself and the teeth marks on his throat began to fade. He hissed, baring his fangs again then slowly came to his feet. "And you're going to pay for all of that. I was told to befriend you and allow you leeway so that you'd come to trust me… but trying to kill me, even though that wasn't the way to do it… is still rather offensive."

Justus took a clean swipe at the Vampire's head. His claws left gashes along the side of the young man's teenaged face. Justus' attack left a gaping set of claw marks that cleanly removed sections of skull, exposing the gelatinous sludge of his gray matter. His body shuttered from a temporary lack of motor-skills after having part of his brain exposed. After only a short few seconds, the flesh began to mend along with the bone beneath. Justus backed away slowly.

"That's definitely unnatural." He shook his head slowly. "It's plain sick..." His voice lowered and he licked his lips apprehensivly, whispering, "I could see straight into your head."

The vampire balled his hands into fists then tugged on his clothes to free them of wrinkles. He straightened his back and canted his head slightly to the right, stretching his stiff neck joints. "You're a _werewolf_ who doesn't believe in the _supernatural_? Are you _stupid_?" He cocked his head sharply to the left, popping his neck with a sigh of relief. "Or are you just in denial?"

Justus snarled again then lunged forward but this time, the vampire was ready. He planted his palms in the werewolf's torso and lifted with undead strength. Bell's body sailed upwards only to find himself slammed into the marble tiles. He skittered across the floor in agony from his wound. Justus moved to his knees and lifted his head just in time to see a boot connect with his face. The vampire kicked the Belmont descendant across the hall with incredible force.

The teenage vampire, starved after healing so many wounds, pounced. He sailed across the hall and planted his feet into the tiles on either side of Justus' hips. He then leaned down to the werewolf's neck with his fangs bared. He lifted his right hand to push back the strands of gray fur, to locate the jugular. "This is the place to bite; your blood is at the end of its trek, heading back towards the heart. You'll stay conscious longer. Drinking from the Jugular doesn't provide the purest taste but at least _you _will suffer more before you die. I have no plans to turn you; this world has no need for such abominations… I'm just going to bleed you dry and leave you to rot for insulting me and wasting my time."

Without warning, the vampire was launched into the air. He sailed down the hallway and came to rest flat on his face. A woman with flowing blonde hair and a strangely military-looking business suit folded her arms beneath the broad expanse of her chest. In her right hand, she held a fancy looking scepter with a clear round stone at the end.

Justus recognized her as the woman to whom he spoke outside of Scylla's chambers. He paused to try and recall her name, gazing at her with a blank stare.

She noted his expression and sighed. "Yoko," she told him in a matter-of-fact tone. "You look as though you've been injured." She nodded to his torso where his cloak was opened enough to display the red stain on his shirt. In reply to his acknowledging nod she offered a smirk. The woman, only in her mid-thirties, hooked a thumb at the heathen collapsed further down the hall and told the wolf, "One moment; let me take care of this ancillae leach."

The teenaged looking vampire sprung back up from the floor and sprinted through the hallway. Yoko rolled backwards doing an impressive handspring then she landed back on her feet with the scepter held in a threatening posture. He bounded to the left, planted his foot on the reflective wall then dove back at her, fangs bared.

The athletic built woman snatched his collar in mid air then pivoted hard, following through so that he slammed head first into the facing wall. She put her hands together and drew her left knee up, balanced on her right foot. Her clothes ruffled as though an unseen wind caused them to billow up. A conjured orb of intense fire spewed forth, engulfing the young looking vampire. His body combusted as though he was covered in an invisible accelerant. He threw his head back to shout but the fire disallowed him the luxury of oxygen with which to vocalize his pain. He dropped to his knees then thrashed to the left, falling over onto the floor. He squirmed wildly but the fire overtook him at an unprecedented pace.

Justus sat up slowly, watching the sorceress try and twirl her scepter like a marching band baton. She faltered only slightly then muttered, "I need to practice my flair; no pun intended." She glanced back to the werewolf with a friendly smile. "Vampires don't get along with sunlight _or_ fire. Thank Archangel Michael for _that_ curse. He was going to have you for dinner. You should be glad I lost my way back to Hammer or you'd be dead and Julius would be pissed off. You had a clear offensive advantage over a vampire that young; why didn't you rip him to pieces?"

"I took a bullet," Justus mumbled through clinched teeth. "Over an hour ago. Then I climbed up the Clock Tower, fought monsters and a two-headed… dragon thing… I'm just dizzy and off balance."

Yoko approached him, remaining cautious. "You saw what I did to that vampire; don't do anything funny, or I won't help you." She knelt down in front of him then said, "Open the cloak and lift your shirt; I need to see your wound."

Justus Bell did as he was told and displayed the bullet would above his appendix. "She didn't hit anything serious. How lucky is that? If she did, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead by now."

"Who is it that shot you?"

Bell sighed in discomfort. "Molly. She was abducted by this ...hand... that reached out of the wall - I wouldn't have believed it had I not seen it. We have to get her back; she has something called the "Dracula's Vampire Stone" or …something like that. I think she might be the reason this castle appeared. Either her or the stone she's carrying. It's a diamond, really. We have to keep it away from other vampires."

"Oh dear," Yoko said, looking down at the wound. She knelt close, examining the injury surrounded by matted fur. "That's bad news for everyone and, if I may be so bold, this wound is serious. It goes clean through your gut and out the backside. The damage is, well, pretty extensive but you're right: It didn't hit anything major so yes, you _are_ lucky thus far. I'll try and mend you up. Don't… eat me."

"Eat you?" Justus blinked at her rapidly. "Is that some sort of pun or joke? If so, I'm not sure that I follow. I sure as hell don't plan on eating some lady who throws fireballs like it's the ordinary thing to do."

Belnades tilted her head at him then reached her right hand into a hip bag she wore. "I'm not supernatural, if that's what you mean."

The young Belmont shook his furry head. "Then what the hell did you just do to that guy? It wasn't a lighter and hairspray, that's for sure."

"You're right," she said in return. "It wasn't science related… it is magic related." She licked her lips and added, "I work for the Church. I know it's odd to hear that a magic wielder is affiliated with the Church but…" Yoko trailed off and offered a small smile. "All right, let's see what I can do for your injury." She reached into her hip pouch and withdrew a small brown bottle. "This is going to feel very cold but it's just the way Ethyl Chloride works, okay? You won't feel much beyond the cold; it only lasts about half a minute or so. Let me know when it hurts again and I'll reapply it."

She eased in on the small metallic nozzle at the top of the canister and glanced up. She saw his muzzle contort into a look of immediate discomfort and, for some reason, she felt more comfortable around him. Most animals would yelp and back away but for him to grimace made him seem that much more human. She took a needle and thread, gently pushing the metal tip through the flesh then worked diligently to mend the point of entry. She paused to reapply the Ethyl Chloride then finished her work, sewing the wound shut.

She sat back and turned her head away from the injury to take in a deep breath of fresh air so as not to get high from the Ethyl Chloride. "Now I have to work on the exit point; turn around and put your ha-..er, _paws_ on the wall."

Justus did as he was told but took his tail into his right palm, holding it out of the way. He winced again at the sensation of the frosty bite that pinched his lower back. "Won't that stuff cause frostbite?"

"No," she replied, while working to stitch up his flesh. She kept her right hand up, angling her wrist down, to hold the fur aside while feeding the needle with her left hand. "This is harder to do with the fur getting in my way so just hold still. This stuff has a low boiling point so the reason you feel this chill is because it's evaporating right on your skin. It feels cold but it's actually room temperature so there's no worry of frostbite." She paused to shake her right hand to get the flow of blood back into her arm then sprayed his wound. After a few seconds, he could feel the odd sensation of having numb flesh tugged on; it caused him to flinch but, much to his relief, she finished quickly.

"One more thing, just to be safe." She placed the bottle back into her pouch, leaned in and used her teeth to break the thread then placed her fingers against the wound with a gentle touch. "Hold still, this will only take a moment." She grew quiet again and, seconds later, Justus gasped at the strange feeling of intense warmth in his abdomen. His left ear flickered listlessly to which she replied with another sharp scolding about how he should keep still.

Once finished, she cleared her throat expectantly and stepped back. "Is he really your uncle?"

"Who, Julius?" Young Justus turned back to her and a weak smile tugged at the corner of his muzzle. "Yeah, he's my great Uncle. Thanks for your time. I feel better and all but I thought magic was just a fake fascination of man that became popularized by the Entertainment Industry, like books and plays and movies and such."

Yoko shook her head which caused her soft locks of sunshine blonde to bounce on either side of her face. The sandy bangs framed her cheeks, enhancing her smile. "My abilities cost personal reparations and penance. They demand rigorous atonement to ensure that I stay tied to the Church. Many people who have these abilities use their magic for self gain or even vengeance. It's a corrupting power to have."

Bell ran his paws through his headfur with a melancholy sigh. "I don't quite know how I could use _my_ 'gift' for good. I'm equipped for vengeance and wrath, even if it's taking down freaks." Justus lowered his gaze to the floor. "I suppose this is the first time I've thought about it and it's catching up to me. I've taken lives, even if some of them weren't able to die by natural means or …whatever. The only thing I can think to do right now is to find Molly and protect her. I couldn't even do that, though."

"Where is she?" Yoko asked.

The werewolf's features dimmed further. Dark amber eyes glanced up at her from beneath furrowed brows. "I think the Countess has her. If not, then one of her henchmen do so we have to figure out where Molly is and try to get her back."

"Look at you," she snapped. Belnades narrowed her eyes and tightened her jaw. "Don't have a pity party just because something bad happened! You need to shrug this off and go after her! We'll just have to head to the throne room and search for answers! I got lost and couldn't find my way back to Hammer but do you see me pouting?"

Justus canted his head like an owl and gawked at her sudden mood change. "That was my intrinsic intention. I climbed out of the Clock Tower, fought a two-headed, fire-spewing dragon, I tangled with a vampire… and need I remind you the _whole time_ I was bleeding like a stuck pig because Molly _shot_ me on accident. I'm just disoriented and weary-of-mind from lack of blood."

Yoko gaped at him as if to ask, '_How dare you?'_ but realization set in… "You poor thing," she said with a tender expression. "Up until today, you never even believed in this stuff, did you? You transform into something you don't understand and you're being asked to protect a girl who shot you and help a situation you had no control over, let alone even a part in, up until today. I'm sorry I got upset; I'm just on edge, too. I suppose sometimes self pity is less destructive than bottling up your emotions."

"You patched me up," said Justus in an endearing tone. The gruffness of his voice faded, leaving only the melodic baritone voice – smooth like fine whiskey aged well and poured from oak barrels. He took her hand into his velvet-padded palm and offered her a polite smile. "I appreciate that. No one could ever say you don't use your abilities for good. Listen, I think we should go separate directions… If she's not in the throne room, we have an entire castle to search. If you were looking for your friend, you should continue to do so. If you find my Uncle, tell him that Molly has the 'Dracula Diamond' and that it cost the entire castle to fall into civil war from the sound of things. Some of the monsters are trying to find it for that Countess woman. The rest of them – the majority of them – are trying to find it so that they can use it on some guy they think is Dracula's Son. They think it will turn him into what his father was by putting Dracula's essence of 'hatred and evil' into the Vampire who touches it. They feel that only someone related to Dracula is worthy of becoming the next _Lord of Darkness_ or whatever. If this guy _is_ here, we need to warn him."

Yoko's eyes widened. She brought her dainty left hand to her mouth, gasping through her fingers. "I… if… if you can find Molly, keep her safe or get her out of this castle. I'll go warn the others. Please, take care of yourself."

"Call me Justus," he said. "If you see my Uncle, tell him I'm headed for the Throne Room to try and figure things out."

* * *

**"WHERE is the stone, girl?**" Camilla narrowed her gaze and tightened her fingers around Molly Fields' throat. The girl struggled in her grip, her eyes dropped to the floor, hands on the vampire's wrist. 

"I hid it in the outside realm, because I was afraid the contact at the University wouldn't pay because of its value. I wouldn't actually be the first person they've pulled a gun on."

"I don't believe you," said the Countess. "Understand me clearly, girl. Mine blood doth boil in reply to its proximity. Thy life is forfeit, mortal; I shall cleft thee in twain with earthworms to hollow out thy noble brow; doest thy wish to rot beneath the earth in a grave as shallow as…"

"SHUT UP!" Molly shouted overtop of the Countess. "Shut the hell up, you stupid psycho freak!" She put her knee against Camilla's gut and pushed.

The vampire's eyes widened. She arched her body and hurled Molly to the floor. The girl rolled across her belongings that lay strewn across the gray stone tiles. She snatched her gun from the floor and pointed it at the Countess. Camilla broke into a fit of giggles, hands on her hips. "Go ahead, mortal."

Molly canted her head a bit and shrugged her shoulders. "You asked for it, bitch." She pulled the trigger; the gun bucked in her hand and the bullet ripped from the muzzle, tearing through Camilla's chest. She staggered back, clutching a bloody hole in her shirt above her heart.

"You have better aim than I thought," said the Countess, biting back her exasperated tone. "But a hole through my heart isn't going to kill me. A stake merely immobilizes a vampire but… _shot through the heart_…"

"Is a lyric in a song," Molly said, coming to her feet. She aimed the gun at Camilla's face. "Now shut up, you crazy bi-polar hag. First you act like we're best friends, then I piss you off and you start ranting in some archaic merry-old-England crap and now you're quoting rock bands from sixty years ago. You're a wack job. Okay, so I can't kill you. But if I blow a hole in your neck and keep shooting until there's nothing left… decapitation works, right?"

"A gunshot won't take off my head," Camilla snorted.

Molly smirked and said, "What if my next round is a hollow-tip? It will expand when it hits your neck and take your throat out from beneath your head."

"You're lying – I can smell it in your blood." Camilla extended her fangs and exclaimed, "It's time, little Molly. You're a virgin, aren't you?" She offered the girl a wicked wink, approaching slowly. "I'm going to enjoy every drop. I'll scour this castle until I find the stone but until I do, I'll bathe in your blood. Your grandfather is Radu Florescu, isn't he?" She grinned then added, "You're a mortal ancestor of Lord Dracula. It will be an _honor_ to bathe in your blood."

"You're crazy," Molly said, backing away. She kept her gun trained on the Countess' face. "And you're creepy. I thought you freaks like to drink it, not take a bath in it."

"I absorb it through my skin," said the Countess with a grin. "Don't know your history, dear girl? Never heard of Elizabeth Bathory?" She canted her head to the side then stretched slightly, quickening her next two steps as though she were dancing towards her prey. "You can call me Vampira. My darling lover will collect your blood into goblets and pour it over my skin while I bask in a porcelain bath tub, dear."

"Kiss my ass," said Molly, squeezing the trigger again. The next round struck the vampire's left cheek, marring her face. The Countess turned away from Molly to face a mirror - one of the few vampire clans able to see their own appearence in reflective surfaces. Her eyes widened at the mark on her face; she placed her fingers directly beneath the gash left from the bullet.

"You scarred me…" She turned away from the mirror. Her eyes held an eerie glowing hue of sun-swept crimson. "You'll pay _dearly_, little virgin." She stormed across the room and put her hand out, covering the barrel of the revolver. Molly squeezed off her third round of eight and it ripped through Camilla's palm, grazed her bicep and continued out to the stone wall at the other end of the room. She brought her other hand to Molly's neck again and lifted the girl into the air, pulling the gun from her hand.

Bathory flung the weapon to the floor and screamed, "YOU will die _slowly_, fool! We will string you up and bleed you into my tub using golden hooks suspended from the rafters! Thou shalt suffer for thine indignation," she continued, once again reverting to her archaic form of speech.

Molly spit in the vampire's face, kicking her legs in an attempt to touch the floor with her feet. "Get off of me you freak," she choked out over the tight grip at her throat.

"We'll cage you like the little animal you are," said Camilla, panting back her rage. Were she still human, she would have hyperventilated by now. "Thine impudence has sealed thy fate." She pivoted on her heel and hurled Molly across the room into the far wall. The girl's hip met the wall first, followed by her legs and her upper body. She dropped to the floor; her head landed on top of her hands. She lay there for a moment drawing short shallow breaths. Camilla tossed the handgun to the ground. It clattered across the stone slabs and came to a rest.

"Dear girl, your willpower impresses me," said the Countess in a haughty voice. "But you _will_ suffer for your insults. When Laura finds out that you have hurt my feelings, she will tear your body asunder. She's quite enamored with me and is rather protective. But she's also very pure and gentle – docile and coy at most times. But she'll make it hurt when she places you onto each golden hook. No local anesthetic, my little darling."

"We'll see," said Molly from her place on the floor. "I'll tell her you tried to get in my pants and we'll see just how pure your little friend can be. I've met some _vicious_ lesbians in my days."

"Shut your mouth, child girl." Camilla snatched Molly up by the collar of her shirt then hissed in the mortal's face, fangs bared. "Let's go and see your new home… feel free to get cozy. If you decide you wish to tell me where the stone is, I'll give you the option of a game. I'll let you go free and give you your gun… and send my favorite girls out to hunt you down. Then the possibility for escape will be in your hands. If you can manage to pull it off… you'll be free to leave the castle grounds. If not, you'll still die but we'll take your offering of information under consideration and allow you to be numbed before hooking you above my bathing tub. Have I broken your spirit yet, little one?"

Molly simply glared at the Countess. "You talk too much, _whore_."

Vampira gawked at the insult. She slammed Molly up against a stone wall and held her still. Large, gnarled fingers reached out from the stones and closed around Molly's body. It slowly drew her into the wall until the girl disappeared from view. Vampira sighed in frustration then muttered, "You'll pay for _marking_ my flawless skin, Child of Seth. The Florescu blood may only be susceptible to the wrath of Dracula's ilk but you, little girl, will bleed just like any other when Laura puts those golden hooks through your warm flesh."

* * *

**A French Percheron stood at the center of** the fantastic horse stable. Its mane, corded off into a line of hair tufts, sat upon the stallion's majestic yet rugged head. The dapple gray equine turned its head slowly to face the bald human wearing a military flack vest. Hammer approached the horse slowly with his hands up in an almost defensive posture. "Just take it easy, fellow. I'm not going to hurt ya'." He approached the horse then leaned over to see what gender it was. "You're not a mare are ya…?" He blinked then stood back up and said, "Oh, no, definitely _not_ a mare." For some reason, he thought he remembered hearing or maybe reading that female horses were more docile and had a calmer demeanor - he wasn't sure if that was true or not. 

He reached his hand behind his head and scratched the nape of his neck, chuckling somewhat nervously. "You don't mind sharing this space with me do ya' buddy? I'm just going to set up my store and maybe make a few bucks. That's fine by you, right pal?"

The horse's left ear flickered and he flipped his tail up as if swatting away flies. Hammer tilted his head, furrowing a single brow. "Okay, well, it's you and me, buddy. I'm just going to go outside and bring in my stuff." He turned back to the door and walked outside. His van sat in the courtyard garden with a stalled engine. The main gate, barely large enough for the van to fit through, swung free on its hinges.

Hammer looked up to see if Soma would be standing in it but the courtyard remained empty and silent. He ran his fingers back over the dark skin of his forehead and sighed. "Dammit, man. You always show up for these shindigs… where're you at _now_?" He glanced back to the van and opened the back doors. He paused, took out his cellphone and dialed Yoko's number but it went straight to her voice mail. "Damn. She must not get any reception." He glanced back down at his phone's LCD and noted that he only had _one_ bar of signal. "Damn," he repeated softly.

He lifted two crates from the back of his van and eased them off the edge onto his right knee. He put his foot onto the bumper and shifted his weight to better get a handle on the large object. He stumbled a bit then made his way into the stable and set the large crate on the ground. Hammer looked back up at the Percheron then turned back to the door. A fox sat in the doorway with its head held high. Not just one... but _five_ tails curled around its feet causing him to double take.

He re-approached the door but the fox stood there in silence. He blinked twice, looking at all five tails then furrowed his brows. "What? Aren't you afraid of me?" He stepped over the fox and walked back out to his van for more gear. The fox stood up and trotted after him. It meandered gracefully around gear and potted plants that filled the courtyard, heading over to the automobile. It did a little circle, almost as if it were chasing its tails, then sat down by his feet.

Hammer leaned his next crate on the bumper against his knee then peered over at the little animal. "Are you following me? I don't have any food, buddy. I'm usually not all that great with animals, pal." He lifted the crate and carried it back into the stable. To his amusement, the five-tailed fox followed, padding through the courtyard and back into the horse stable.

Hammer glanced back over his shoulder then eased the crate down on top of the first. "Okay, if you're going to follow me around, you need a name. Since you've got, like, _five_ freakin' tails, I'll call you _Chernobyl_."

He turned back to the crates and lifted the lid from the top box. He tossed it on the stable floor, covered with scattered hay. A soft, feminine voice floated to his ears coming from somewhere behind. "You can call me Sinopa Crevan." Hammer turned to face the humanoid anthropomorphic vixen. She wore a low cut red evening gown that stopped at her creamy knees which melted into sparkling red heels. His eyes lifted again, raking over her form to drink in the sumptuous curves of her feminine figure. The graceful slope of her hips eased into her washboard stomach which continued up to a generous bust. The swell of her twin globes receded into a slender neckline and a porcelain visage. Her fiery red locks flowed free down over her shoulders and cascaded further down her back.

"…Whoa." His eyes lowered once more then, finally, zeroed in on the five bushy tails that came from the base of her spine. Hammer stammered for a moment then asked, "You…? You're the fox?"

"Sinopa Crevan," she repeated. "A Russian nuclear power plant blowing up in the late nineteen hundreds wouldn't cause me to have _five_ fox tails, darling sir." She then offered a smile; her twin rose-painted petals parted to reveal elegant rows of pearl-like teeth. She was _achingly_ beautiful… then his eyes landed on the two orange triangles that sat nearly hidden in her fantastic garnet hair. "I'm well traveled. I've lived in Japan, Ireland, and even in the mid-western United States." She offered him another dazzling smile then said, "What's a dashing gent, like yourself, doing in the courtyard of such a place?"

"I'm came to ensure the safety of," Hammer blinked as if suddenly breaking some sort of spell. "My _girlfriend_, Yoko." He blinked again, looking down at the small five-tailed animal on the ground. The little fox walked back to the doors of the stable, passing through and into the garden. He hurried to the stable door and peered through it. The little five-tail kitsune made her way up the stairs to an entrance that led into the castle. She glanced behind herself, making eye contact with Hammer then fluffed her lush tails. The little animal stepped through the door, leading into the castle and disappeared.

Hammer blinked rapidly, canting his head slightly. "I mentioned… My girlfriend, Yoko… then she turns _back_ into a little fox and walks off… how odd is that? Did I offend her maybe?" To his words, the Percheron neighed loudly, startling him from his train of thought. "…Jesus!" He whipped his head to the right and glared at the horse who lifted his head, lowered it, then repeated the motion again. Hammer rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand then muttered, "Who asked you?"

* * *

Author's Note for Chapter 8

**A/N**: _Okay, so now we finally see the 'Kitsune' vixen that Molly mentioned in the last chapter. She's coming back for her diamond. We also see that There are now TWO evil factions after this diamond… The Countess and those who are still loyal to the bloodline of Dracula Tepes, wanting to use this diamond on Alucard. Then you've got Julius, James and Molly, and – of course – you've got the main hero: Justus Bell. _

_I think the cast is full, now. We've got Yoko and Hammer for supporting roles and… should I have anyone else show up? Do we have enough characters? Or do you people want to see one more face? I'm just curious. Who would it be, if you DID want someone else? Soma perhaps? _

_I'm not so sure, but if you guys ask nice, I'll make it happen. Right now I've got the story so that it could go either way… with or without him. _

_But the main hero will STILL be Justus Bell of the Belmont clan and Cornell line. _

_By the way, 'Sinopa' is BLACKFOOT INDIAN for "fox" and 'Crevan' is IRISH for "fox". :)_

_She's not going to be a HUGE or a majorly important character but she will help add some cool history to the Dracula Diamond. For anyone who knows anything about the kitsune, their power comes from a sparkling "star ball" or, as it's called in Japanese, the Hoshi-no-Tama. Until she gets it back, her powers are limited. …if she gets it back. The kitsune, while not the highest being up on the path to enlightenment (more like… juuuust beneath the humans – mortality puts a little fire under your butt when you know you'll die one day… immortal spirit foxes get a little lazy cause anything that they don't accomplish in THIS life, they can do in the next one), they're pretty high up there. She wants that diamond back and she's willing to seduce people with a spell to get it. However, Hammer didn't really fall all that hard because he's in LOVE. True love is the only thing her spell cannot break. BUT her powers MIGHT seriously test the "true love" of Countess Camilla, aka, Vampira. If this vixen's spell charm works on the Countess, Laura's 'invincibility spell' won't protect the countess anymore… …at least in theory! _

_So now that you know what kind of drama is possible for our heroes and villains, I hope you'll want to read more! _

_If so, LET ME KNOW! I have this habit of personally replying to every reviewer and personally thanking them for reading but for those of you who responded with an anonymous feedback review, I'd like to take the opportunity to thank you right here: I APPRECIATE IT! THANK YOU FOR READING THUS FAR! You guys rock! _

_I know this is my least popular story. It only has ONE alert compared to some of my other stories that have upwards of 30. I only have like 40 hits per chapter on this story (four hundred on the first chapter because people that click the link go there before they go straight to the chapter they left off at. So that, of course, doesn't count) compared to having between two hundred and six hundred hits PER chapter of some of my StarFox and Sly Cooper stories. So, yeah, I realize that this story is NOT on people's agenda, let alone their favorite thing to read... but I really enjoy writing it. So for the couple of people out there who LIKE this story, I just wanted to __reiterate _how much I appreciate you guys taking the time out of your day to read this! Thanks again! 

_Take care!_

_-Kit _


	10. Chapter 9: Book Of Revelation

A/N: _One of my reviewers told me in confidence that they feel it was difficult to get into this story because I started with Original Characters – something that some CV fans can't relate to when starting a new story. I re-wrote the Prologue and made some additions. It should bode well for explaining why Alucard suddenly appears when Julius and Justus are together in front of the castle with the police and Turkish Prime Minister, in the second chapter. If you haven't already, please take a look. Yay or nae?_

Chapter -9-  
"A Revelation of Biblical Proportions"

**Julius narrowed his eyes** at Hammer's quixotic little shop. His gaze panned across the stable then returned to the gentleman with whom Yoko Belnades came to love. He drew in a slow breath then said, "It appears Yoko lost her way – last I saw her, she said she was coming to check on you." He brought his fingers to the corner of his auburn mustache which began to show peppered signs of age. The only sign of his frustration was seen through a pensive tug at the right corner of his thick facial hair. His hand dropped back to his hip, so as to better appear stoic again. "No sign of Mister Cruz?"

"No," Hammer replied. "And he won't be coming, either." He gauged Julius' expression then abruptly added, "Yeah, I'm sure of it."

"How do you know?" Belmont placed his hands upon his hips above each of his well-secured whips. They rested, coiled, on either side of his waist. He glanced over at a spotted gray horse then cut his gaze back to the darkly tanned gentleman.

Hammer walked to the stable door and motioned for Julius to follow. The two stepped out into the courtyard and Hammer approached his van. He opened the driver's side door and slid into the seat. He put his keys into the ignition then turned it but nothing happened. He cleared his throat then said, "It's like this, man. Did you see that bright flash earlier? You know how we're inside of a big freakin' magic bubble? Well, some crazy politician must have some big brass buttons, because they detonated a nuclear warhead on this castle."

Hammer hooked a thumb at the gate and added, "We can see a hazy weirdo-lookin' European town out there, but the outside world sees this castle as a decrepit old building from their end. I'm willing to wager they've been trying for days to get in and someone with an itchy finger dropped a small multi-kiloton warhead on the castle." He withdrew the ignition key then told the Hunter, "Maybe a two kiloton bomb – the flash was bigger than the blast or the heat. It was designed to have a bigger bark than a bite."

Julius' eyes widened. "I remember the flash; any monster near a window at the time it occurred had their eyes melted."

"Bam! See what I mean?" retorted Hammer, thrusting his hands up and outwards. "Anyways, the EMP fried my van, so it's not going anywhere. On the other side of that magic bubble there is bound to be a bunch of fallout; not to the extent of a megaton bomb, but just the same – it'll make you sick. No one is coming near the castle after a blunder like _that_. In about two day's time, you'll have a few scientists poking around here, but they'll be wearing biohazard suits."

Hammer reached back to a small shelf behind the passenger seat and opened a plastic drawer. He took out a brown and white pill bottle then pivoted on his rump back towards the vampire hunter. He opened the top and turned it over into his palm. Two chalky pills tumbled into his upturned fingers. "This is potassium iodide. It keeps radiation from affecting your thyroid, so the …well, if you really want to know _how_ it works, read the bottle. Just know this: It keeps the effects of radiation from doing maximum damage. I never thought I'd actually have to sell this stuff but I'm glad I brought it – you never know what kind of things will happen on a battlefield, man."

As if to tease the hunter, he put the pills back into the bottle, secured the top then leaned back in the driver's seat. "It's like never-ending nighttime, here… and I don't have a working van. All I've got is an old fashioned gasoline-powered Honda generator."

Julius lifted a single bushy brow. "It affected _all_ electronic devices?"

Hammer shook his head vehemently. "Heck no, man!" He pulled his cell phone out and flipped open the top. "There must be something in the castle bricks that somehow managed to shield certain things but on that note, it also sucks for reception. Yeah, my van is out in the open, here in the garden… and it is _toast_. But my cell was in the stable and it wasn't affected. My wristwatch is still running too, but my GPS, satellite radio receiver and anything that was actually _in _the van during the flash… well, it's worthless now. It might make a fancy paperweight but, damn, I can't sell that stuff, you know? But every device on me at the time, including my PDA, works just fine cause I was somehow shielded by the building and roof when it happened."

"Very fortunate for you to be indoors when it happened," Julius murmured, scrunching both of his brows down for a moment. He placed his hand on the darkened driver side window and frowned. "You might have been blinded by the flash had you been in your van. I somehow doubt the tinting film would have helped." Without warning, Julius changed topics. "I know that you care for Yoko but I hope that you have enough common sense to stay put in the stable. We've had this discussion once before." He furrowed a single brow yet again, his only rare idiosyncrasy.

The vendor, amused by the cocked brow, offered Yoko's friend a goofy grin and quirked his own brows in response – not exactly mocking Julius, just being personable. "Yeah, yeah – ten years ago," Hammer said, waving his hands dismissively. "I was looking for my man, Soma. I told 'ya that he is a pal in trouble and I was coming to help him. Ya' told me that 'ordinary humans' aren't a match for foes like the ones in the Castle and that being a man has nothing to do with this situation or whatever. I toldja I was military but I knew when to fall back if things get crazy. Ya' told me that was fine and that if I feared for my life I should 'get out immediately'. I said I heard you loud 'n clear, toljda that you got my word on it and that was that."

Julius cracked a faint smile. "Good memory." He pushed his hand into his pocket and withdrew gold pieces retrieved from the castle. "I've never purchased anything from you in the past because I've _always_ come prepared. But this time things happened differently. You still stock bottled water?"

"Heck yeah, man!" Hammer slid out of the van then walked around to the back doors. He pulled a metal chest by the handle and drew it to the edge of the cargo floor. He turned it about then opened it and pushed his hand into the mesh nets that held dry-ice which lined the interior. He opened a separate central compartment inside the metallic crate where fresh, cold water bottles were stored. "Did she tell you _why _we were in Moscow?"

"No." Simple and concise, Belmont folded his arms across his broad chest and glanced up at the castle in silence.

"She was doing research," said the ex-soldier, pulling out a liter-sized bottle. "No joke; this guy painted Dracula's Castle because he saw it in a dream. It was one of those guys who normally couldn't draw a stick figure very well… but then he wakes up from this dream and draws a photographic-quality likeness of the castle using colored pencils and stuff. He then starts spouting Latin crap about how Dracula's Curse would be unleashed upon the world soon through a vessel of 'flesh'. She wanted to check this guy out and he was the _real deal_, man. So she asks if he remembered hearing any names in his dream and he said something like, '_Dracula's anagram is the three of swords!'_ and a bunch of other stuff, then next thing you know, the phone rings and it's _you_. We were out of Moscow faster than you could say, "bloodsucker" and on a jet to Romania. We picked up the van at the University and drove straight here – pedal to the metal."

Julius' interest seemed to be elsewhere until Hammer mentioned Dracula's anagram. He jerked his head back to the mocha-skinned soldier then pushed a particularly large gold piece into Hammer's open palm, taking the water with his other hand. "You can keep the large gold piece for this bottle of water if you can repeat his wording _exactly_."

Hammer relinquished the water to Julius' grasp then handed the hunter the potassium iodide bottle. He blinked a few times and cupped both of his hands around the fantastic golden chunk. "Damn, man! Where'd you find something _this_ big?" He paused, glanced up then cleared his throat. He licked his lips apprehensively then lifted his right index finger as if to ask for a moment to remember. Hammer pondered for a short time, recalling how the conversation happened in his mind then looked up with a slowly-forming frown.

"Recite it verbatim." Julius lowered his eyes to the bottle of water and the plastic pill container. He took a moment to inspect his purchase then glanced furtively over his shoulder. His head canted back towards the vender with an expectant gaze.

Hammer calmly told the hunter, "He said, '_Dracula's anagram is the three of swords. For his Sorrow runs deep and the severing of emotional ties will bring about the Revelations – They start with but a flash brought upon the world by the seven of the first eleven. Beware the clash between his transformation and the desire of _she_ who is mentioned in the seventeenth and eighteenth for giving power to her upon the seven heads shall bring forth the early morning's star from the sands of Babylon_.'

Julius pocketed the bottle of water and wrote in the dust on the side of Hammer's van with his finger. He made several small pictures in the coating of dirt then several symbols of shorthand so as not to forget what was being said. Finally he turned to Hammer and said, "Again, I commend your fantastic memory, Hammer. Give me a moment to figure this all out." He began drawing again in the coating of dirt alongside the van.

Julius paused, walked to the gate and peered off into the distance. He turned back to Hammer and shook his head. "This is _very_ bad. Were it not for the realistic possibility that we're currently surrounded by fallout on the outside of the castle's magical seal, I would have demanded your immediate departure."

The ex-soldier pushed the gold piece into his pocket and leaned against the rear bumper of his dead vehicle. "What the hell is going on? Yoko was trying to piece it together the whole ride here, man."

"What was her conclusion?" asked Julius.

Hammer thought about it for a moment then shrugged. "She figured that some dude and some chick would go to war over the power to bring back Satan earlier than expected or something. She said that the 'morning's star' referred to Morningstar, and the part about him coming from the sands of Babylon refers to that city returning – I always thought that was a metaphor for the day when the whole world is able to speak the same language. This has something to do with the Book of Revelation, right?"

"Quite accurate," said Julius with a nod. "But I have to wonder if she's pieced it all together now that she's here." He glanced back at the Carpathian Mountain range and recounted them. "Seven mountain summits can be seen from this Castle. '_The seven heads are seven mountains upon which the woman sittith_,' is a quote from the Book of Revelation." He turned back to Hammer and frowned again. "Countess Camilla is the Great Whore of Babylon. _How_ she plans to summon Satan is beyond me but the anagram of Dracula… well that's self-explanatory. If he is the _three of swords_, which is a tarot card term, then somehow, this castle will bring him great _sorrow_ and his emotional ties will be severed. Whether it means his emotional ties _to_ the castle, or to _humanity_, I can't be sure. The flash upon the world…"

Hammer nodded, reciting the Russian man from yesterday. "He said, '_A flash brought upon the world by the seven of the first eleven_.' Seven-Eleven… like the convenience store? That's one of the parts that stumped her during our ride here."

Julius groaned. "Now it makes _perfect sense_." He balled his hands into fists. "It wouldn't have before now, because no one knew what the flash was until it happened. Dammit."

"What?" Hammer pushed himself off of the back bumper and approached the aging vampire hunter. "You know so damn much about this _Good vs. Evil_ crap, so are you gonna' tell me?"

"The first seven," said Julius in a slow, cautious voice, "are the churches of the cities of Asia Minor. I think they were the cities of Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia and Laodicea." Belmont rarely spoke entire paragraphs of dialogue but he was still figuring this out in his head. Speaking it aloud helped him to piece together all the clues to solve what seemed like a riddle. "The _first eleven_ refers to the first eleven chapters of the Book of Revelation. _ALL_ of these sites are located in what is now modern day TURKEY. The Turkish Prime Minister is somewhere in this castle and it's possible that _Turkey_ is responsible for dropping that warhead on the castle out of fear. That is _right out of the Bible_. All seven sites are the churches of Asia Minor, and are all located in modern day Turkey. If that guy prophesized that a flash would be 'brought upon the world by the first seven of eleven', then he's referring to the flash we witnessed… and, most likely, those seven Turkish locations that are mentioned between the first and eleventh chapter of the Book of Revelation."

"…That's deep, man." Hammer's gaze dropped to the ground. "You really think Turkey had the gull to drop a nuke just because they think their Prime Minister was abducted by this castle?"

Belmont lifted his left hand and ran his fingers through his hair. "They have no reason to believe that he's still alive," said Julius with a sigh. "Everyone except Justus was murdered out there. The only reason the Turkish Prime Minister survived is because he was close to me when Genya Arikado shielded us from the initial blast. I saw Justus here in the castle, so I know he's alive. But that means he never told anyone what happened. Yoko probably re-cracked the magic seal to let you guys into the castle but those seals only stay open for an hour at a time. After that, they re-close unless she does some sort of incantation to keep it open for longer. Since it closes up again, it's safe to say that no one else has been able to enter. They probably assume the Prime Minister been murdered and, because he's not among the dead, they would concluded that his body is simply missing. They also might have presumed highway robbers took his body simply because of his status. Turkey has every right to believe that he is dead."

Julius walked back to the stable doors then glanced over his shoulder at Yoko's fiancé. "Stay put. I have to find Mister Arikado – his involvement in this is deeper than I initially suspected. Let's just say he knows a little more about the "Dracula's Anagram" riddle than most realize. I want to warn him. I'll be damned if this Castle brings about the End of Days. All that stuff is probably metaphorical but if I can stop it from playing out early the way it's written, then so much the better. If you see her, then I want you to tell Yoko _everything_ I've just said."

He turned back towards the elevated double doors and sighed. Julius faced the double doors that were located to the left of the stable. He headed towards the Courtyard's left corner entrance, up a set of stairs and into the Castle's main foyer.

Hammer pulled out the gold piece from his pocket, looked it over then put it back into safekeeping. He watched Julius Belmont disappear through the same entrance the strange fox lady used. "Man, everyone needs to just chill out about the End of the World. You know?" His monologue fell on no other ears than his own. "I mean, if Jesus Christ came at the 'Meridian of Time', and, like, scientists are digging up homo sapiens' bones that are from, like, twelve _thousand_ BC, then we still got, like, ten thousand more years before the end of the world. People are so freakin' impatient." He glanced over at the stable doors which were left open. The Percheron stuck his muscular head through the door, gazing at the van and its owner.

"Yeah? What're _you_ looking at, pal? None of us are going to be here to worry about the end of the world – ten thousand years is a _long_ time." The horse rotated his head from left to right rapidly, almost like a wet dog. Hammer face-faulted. "Don't believe me, huh? Yeah, so those monsters are trying to rush us to the finish line… it won't happen. Sure, maybe Armageddon will _start_ tomorrow and take ten thousand years to play out… but c'mon, how likely is _that_?"

The horse retreated to the stables, leaving Hammer alone. The middle-aged ex-soldier waved his hand in a dismissive way. "Yeah, fine. It's too deep'a subject for ya, so go ahead and run off. Fine, that's cool. This is just way over your head – I read ya', loud and clear. Whatever." He turned back towards the main gates and started counting mountain tops to the east. He stopped at the seventh one then grumbled. "It could just be a big coincidence."

* * *

**Camilla shoved the door open** with such force that the ensuing noise of it hitting the wall caused every head in the room to face her. She stood in the doorway of the massive dining hall and placed her hands upon her hips. The silence brought a partial grin to her lips.

Known to most as _Vampira_, the countess sauntered through the room, followed by Laura who walked behind her mistress in a submissive posture. The girl's chin lifted proudly but her eyes remained averted out of respect. She moved with the ebb and flow of Camilla's body language. A simple shift of the countess' weight followed by a swooping motion of her hand told the submissive girl where to go and how to act.

Laura changed her pace and moved up, passed her mistress then knelt down on the floor at the front of the room. She parted her knees enough to keep her center of balance low. She placed her hands atop of her thighs and straightened her back. Her chin lifted a bit but her eyes dropped straight to the ground.

The countess began to pace before her favored pet. "For now, the Turkish Ottoman Empire corpse army has been pushed back. Their second wave will show eventually but in the mean time, I have a task for you to undertake." She lowered her voice and turned to Laura. Camilla snapped the fingers of her right hand and simply said, "Table."

The youthful Laura leaned forward. Her elbows met the smooth floor and her rump lifted so that she spaced herself evenly. The girl flattened her back so that she resembled a pedestal in some fashion. Her head lowered until her forehead met with the ground. She cooed in response to an affectionate touch granted by her mistress who ran soft fingertips through her hair which pooled on the marble tile, fanned out around her lowered head.

The countess stepped up upon Laura's back placing one foot upon the girl's shoulders and her other upon her pet's hindquarters. Now elevated, Camilla could see everyone gathered from the front to the back. "There is a clear, rounded stone – a diamond to be precise. I've captured the girl who brought it into this castle but she didn't have it on her. I will reward the one who brings this to me. But what _is_ a reward if everyone assembled has different wants, needs or desires? So I leave your reward up to _you_, should you find my lost treasure. I will grant _anything_, save for the virginity of my Laura."

The girl's face, hidden beneath the hair that splayed across the floor tiles, illuminated into a radiant smile. It went unseen by all but Laura felt pride that her Mistress held her body in such respectful regard. She felt elated joy.

Camilla continued. "I will, however, grant _any_ other request. Whether you desire fortune, power over your peers or even a heated night of passion with _me_; your idea of a reward shall be up to you."

Laura's smile disappeared abruptly, hearing Mistress suggest her affections to someone other than her pet. Laura's cold eyes burned metaphorical holes in the elegant floor tiles beneath her. She paused then drew in a deep breath with which to calm her temperament. Her jealousy was its own beast and she had to quell it lest she upset or disappoint the mistress.

The unknowing countess droned on to the legions of freaks and beasts that filled the room. "…And that's why I've come to appeal to you tonight. My gathered assembly, you'll notice that over a third of this room is empty. It's because many have sought out this diamond for the son of Dracula. We all know – and most of us remember – Alucard attacked this castle in the past. He's no friend. He's not an ally. He doesn't have the same vision as his father the way that _I_ do. To find this artifact for Alucard is counterproductive. Finding it for _me_ honors the vision of this Castle's founding Lord. But to those of you here who are vampires like myself, I must warn you not to touch this artifact with your bare skin."

A human looking male stood up and threw his arms straight up into the air with an angry look on his face. "Why shouldn't we? Because you want Dracula's power for yourself? Is that it? You think this stone may give you some measure of his abilities, so you want it for yourself, right?"

Camilla stepped from Laura's back and trotted through the room. Other creatures parted from her path, leaving him to stand there with a defiant look upon his face at the center of a circle. She took him by the throat and lifted him straight off the floor. "I don't need his 'power' and, for your information, it doesn't hold ANY power, it holds the spirit of his spite. I need for his essence to stay in that stone for now. If some young neonate, like yourself, were to bond with the _power of his hatred_, it would be lost forever when some hunter comes along and kills you." She slung his body onto the floor and placed her heel against his neck. "Some have said they would prefer for someone powerful like Alucard to touch this stone so that he would use his abilities in a spiteful manner the way his father did. But if you ask me, it would all be wasted and thrown away should Alucard receive it. The sniveling whelp would fight it like the 'honorable' bumpkin he tries to be. You want some idiot who strives for nobility to have it? Do you?"

She grinded her heel against his throat and added, "I'm _spiteful enough_ without Dracula's essence of hate and malice. But to preserve it, I would bond with his essence to safeguard it. But I assure you, I do not need Lord Dracula's hatefulness – I'm capable of hating without it."

"But," he choked out, trying to push air through his windpipe. "If Alucard receives his father's hate, he might fall victim to it. Then this house would still belong to the rightful heir of Lord Dracula."

"He might use it _against_ us and destroy this castle out of spite!" She relieved the pressure against his throat, doubled over and lifted him back into the air by his neck. "My order was to find it, cover it with cloth and bring it to me. Is that so hard to understand?"

"You just want it for yourself, hoping to increase your power and…" The vampire suddenly found it hard to force noise from his vocal cords.

"A little female virgin brought it into the castle," said Camilla. "Don't you know of my past legacy? I bathe in the blood of virgins, you fool. Is not that a sign of fate; do you agree it should belong to me? Speaketh true, youth!" She pivoted hard on her heel then shifted her weight, slamming him down upon his back, flat on a wooden table. Several creatures, seated at the table, scooted down the bench to give her room. "What's the matter, little one? Vampire got your tongue?"

"Alucard would…" He suddenly couldn't speak again, reaching for her wrists.

"T'was a 'yes or no' answer to a simple question," she said with a growl that originated at the back of her tongue. It sounded more like the throaty reverberation one might hear coming from a lion. "Mine ears can'st perceive thy reply. Speak… else his name shall be thy last spoken word." She added pressure to his neck, itching for a reason to kill him. He grunted but seemed unable to speak through the grip at his neck. She continued to waver back and forth between archaic and modern methods of speaking. "Your insolent prattle bores me as does thy ignorance."

The vampire sucked air into his lungs slowly, with which to push out audible words. "Vlad _Tepes_. Adrian _Tepes_."

Her demeanor changed to something far less intense. "Fair enough," she replied with a roll of her eyes. She tightened her forearm and crushed his neck until the flesh tore beneath the force. Scarlet dribbled out from between her fingers then began to pour over the top of her hand, down over her knuckles. "Trust in mine words: thy death pains thee far less than experiencing a cleansing fire or perhaps even a death thou would'st experience from a Hunter's purifying holy water. A weak fool like thine self would'st crumble before the might of Julius Belmont or mayhap a cohort in league with him. Thou mayest give thanks unto me for providing a less painful end."

She offered him a smirk then finished the job. Her forearm swelled and her knuckles turned white from pressure. The sickening pop of his spine breaking would have echoed off the walls but the assembly of gathered creatures deadened out any such noises. She bared her teeth and tightened her jaw, grimacing. His neck continued to snap and the struggling creature beneath her grip flailed wildly in an attempt to free himself.

She pushed her sharp fingernails into the nape of his neck, further separating his spine until his body became limp due to the separation of signal from his brain to his body. His head lulled back and his frame became calm. Seconds later a thump filled the room. Quiet resumed. His head rolled beneath one of the tables and his body began to decompose rapidly.

The blood on her hand dried up and, like the headless corpse, it turned to dust before her eyes. She reached down, beneath the table and snatched his hair in her left hand. Countess Camilla lifted it up to show the entire room. "See this headless descendant of Caine? He is a broken soul who believed in a wayward man who only wishes one thing: The complete destruction of this castle and _all_ of _you_. Don't take my display of anger as a threat! The only _threat_ was the cause that this pitiful soul stood for! If anything, my display was done out of my desire to protect our way of livelihood! We are ONE family. My girls, my lover and I cannot live without your protection. You have a home because I've used my powers to provide you with this home. It only takes _one_ weak link to break a taut chain."

The room remained silent. "Very well. Now that I have your attention, I ask you to go out and find this diamond. Molly Fields has not revealed the hiding spot but I cannot kill her just yet, either. I leave it up to the rest of you – find it! And, if you come across any foe, including those who are sympathetic to Alucard, then I command you to strike them down with extreme prejudice!" She threw her arms up into the air suggestively. The rest of the room rose to their feet and made their way out of the titanic dining hall. Some left through doors, others left by means of wall-walking. She folded her arms and turned to Laura.

"I feel your anger," she said to the girl. "When dealing with creatures who have a low capacity to think, I have no means with which to control them… and then I remembered that I am a woman and wield a power over their shriveled brains… the power of instincts – the power of sex. Don't think I would truly give my body to some testosterone-fueled beast. Saying it is far different than going through with it – once I have that stone, their desires won't matter to me anymore."

Laura rose to her feet, knowing that she was allowed to do so when being spoken to. "Fair enough, my liege. You know what is best, Mistress."

"That is, indeed, quite correct. And Mistress Vampira will never lead you astray with lies, my darling." She approached her faithful servant and cupped the girl's left cheek with her right palm. "Let's retire to my chambers for the night. Oh, my darling thrall, I'll let you taste my blood from my left wrist if it pleases you. I know it gives you an emotional high."

"My gratitude for such a treat consumes my heart, mistress," Laura replied in a soft, submissive tone.

* * *

**Alucard's gaze widened but his dilated pupils shrank**, a look that worried Julius Belmont. The youthful and elegant looking gentleman turned back to the aging librarian whose silver crown of hair did little to cover the plain white bald spot at the top of his head. A pair of spectacles rested above the man's brow and he looked older than his actual age. Alucard cleared his throat then motioned to the man.

"Forgive me, Julius. I was so surprised by your information that I nearly forgot to introduce you to my temporary traveling companion, James Johnson. I found him wondering the halls – I've learned that he's quite knowledgeable of this citadel and its original curator."

"Is that right?" Julius looked the man over and frowned. "You've aged like a little old scholar; I'm willing to wager that I'm older than yourself, Mister Johnson."

James folded his arms and said, "I'm _only_ forty-five. With an egotistical young personality like that, I'm going to guess you're about forty but in good physical shape."

Alucard smirked. "Mister Johnson, Julius was born in 1980. He was _nineteen_ years old when you were _born_."

Julius ran his fingers back through his thick auburn hair and added, "And yes, I _am_ in good physical shape, Mister Johnson." He lowered his hand, offering it outward. "Julius Belmont."

"Belmont?" James blinked twice then said, "Aren't you the man who is said to have defeated Dracula's immortal body? I'm honored." He reached for Julius' hand and shook it firmly. "It's a pleasure, Mister Belmont. The honor truly belongs to me, sir. I'm deeply impressed."

Julius finished the handshake then withdrew his fist, placing both upon his hips. He turned back to Alucard and said, "Genya, this castle shouldn't keep reappearing during every Solar Eclipse. It's causing more problems than I intended – appearing over Japan, over Wallachia, wherever it seems we have a Solar Eclipse. How do we stop it?"

"I'm not sure," said Dracula's son. "But it seems to me that the Castle has the power to _create_ a Solar Eclipse whenever it wishes, so that it can appear wherever it needs to be. But it seems to me that our best bet of finding out is to make the rest of the interior accessible."

"How so?" Julius frowned thoughtfully.

James cleared his throat and spoke up. "Mister Arikado here thinks that we can make use of the castle's teleportation chambers but, if you ask me, they're only a myth."

"They're no myth," grumbled Julius. "They're not scientifically proven methods of transportation but they work."

"They _did_ work," said Alucard, beginning to wonder back on Julius' message concerning the man Yoko interviewed from Russia. He couldn't help but wonder why she never mentioned it to him earlier. The eternally young dhamphir shook his head and lifted a gloved hand as if to accent his next statement. "Somehow, they've been disengaged – perhaps their so-called _fuse_ has been extricated. The main chamber is the only place where they can be activated or deactivated. Whatever struck the citadel's magic seal earlier, bomb or otherwise, caused a hallway to collapse and now we can't easily access that section of the castle. There _is_ one other way but it isn't necessarily safe."

"Show me," Julius returned in his usual gruff voice.

Alucard nodded then asked, "By the way, Julius… _why_ did you go out of your way to search _me_ out? Was it just to tell me about what the Russian man told Yoko and her betrothed? What compelled you to wish for me to be in the loop?"

Julius's eyes narrowed. "You know _damn well_ why I felt compelled to tell you, _Genya_." He offered Arikado a smirk then used his elbow to smooth back his lengthy brown long-coat. He withdrew the one liter water bottle, removed the cap and took a drink then said, "Lead the way."

Alucard began to walk and the other two followed. He pondered to himself just how safe his identity was, deciding that the name _Genya Arikado_ would have to become just a memory, soon. He opened a door into another hallway and the two mortal men followed. He led them down the silent vestibule and opened yet another door. He continued out to a colossal ledge overlooking a foggy pit which spanned the better half of two full football fields. "Behold. But it's not safe."

Julius brushed past both men and stopped at the edge. He peered down at a bed of spikes that reached out from the dark void which stretched before them. "I remember this room; it's been forty-five years, though." He peered over his shoulder at the librarian-looking man then glanced back to the lethal pit. "I purposely avoided it during my last two visits to this Castle. Are you sure this is the _only_ way without having to backtrack?"

"I am," said Alucard. "The collapsed hallway makes things very difficult. It would take quite some time to circumvent the blockade. This is the quickest and most direct route, Julius. Any other path would add several hours of travel time and something tells me that we're racing against the clock. However, I do _not_ expect for you to consent to this method of travel."

"Indeed," said the aging hunter with another sigh.

Julius Belmont tightened his jaw and took a slow breath. He eyed the incredible gap between himself and the distant platform then lowered his gaze to the bed of spikes below. His head lifted, counting concrete rungs on the ceiling. In a disgruntled murmur, he asked, "We can't go beneath the castle?"

Alucard shook his head with a sigh. "If one of the rungs crumbles from your weight you'll have a fatal fall." He turned to James Johnson then added, "Julius, you'd be going without a guide. You _could_ take the long way but it would set you back several hours by traditional means of plotting a course through the castle. We need to find a way to get the Teleportation Chambers working again."

"Quite right," said James. "I don't even want to think of the troubles that Molly's stone would create if those fiends forced it into the hands of Dracula's son. Part of me is worried that this wayward son may be looking for it as well. Then again, I have to wonder if he even _knows_ it is here."

Alucard folded his arms across his chest, remaining in character as Genya Arikado. "Whatever stone you refer to, I'm sure he would be able to feel its presence. Honestly, I'm not sure he even still exists. It could just be a rumor; disinformation has caused larger civil wars than _this_."

"Indeed, you are correct, Mister Arikado." James offered him a thin smile.

Alucard nodded, stealing a glance at Julius to assess his thoughts based on facial expression. He noted that Belmont remained stoic and so he turned back to James. Alucard forced a wan smile in reply. "Please, simply _Genya_ will suffice."

"Fair enough," James replied. He returned his gaze to Julius and said, "Mister Belmont, those spikes haven't been sharpened in ages. They're probably covered in rust from humidity due to Princess River, beneath the castle. If you were somehow able to get down there, you could walk across them carefully. However, falling from those rungs would _still_ be rather lethal – it's quite a drop, never mind those metal points beneath."

Julius leaned over the ledge and narrowed his eyes. "There's no viable way to ascend the wall up to the ledge across the way." The older man's gruff voice told his age but his physical demeanor and stature suggested that he could have easily been younger than James, despite the twenty year seniority he held over the librarian-looking man. "There's no denying that you have a mind like a bookshelf when it comes to Vlad and his home, Mister Johnson, but don't let the age of this castle fool you… Those points are as sharp as they were the day they were fashioned."

Genya nodded in reply to what Julius said to James. "Trust him on that, my good Sir. Julius knows what he's talking about and doesn't always say very much when he speaks. So listen up; he doesn't always repeat himself, either."

"So what are our options?" asked Johnson with a shrug.

Without a word, Julius turned away from the balding historian then unraveled both the Vampire Killer and the Hunter's Whip. He cracked each with a secret smile brought about by the thought of the bald forty-five year old probably cringing behind him. He then jerked his right hand outwards, wrapping the end of the Belmont Family whip around the first rung. He tugged, testing the aging concrete with his weight. He re-cracked Nathan Graves' whip and leapt forward.

Belmont snapped his left wrist upwards, bringing the Hunter's Whip up and secured it around the second rung. He waited until his body stopped swinging then tugged hard on the left-handed whip. He took a deep breath then jerked his legs forward, swinging towards the third rung and jerked his right wrist, uncoiling Vampire Killer from the first ring. He continued to swing his legs forward, building up momentum. After a moment, he jerked his right wrist again, securing his first whip around the third rung and tested its durability like the last two.

"He's got gull," said James to the Japanese Paranormal Division agent. Alucard offered no reply. They watched in silence while Julius worked his way out to the fourth, fifth and sixth rung.

On the seventh rung, Julius snapped his right wrist outwards and wrapped his primary whip around the appropriate concrete circle. He then climbed up the length of the whip towards the concrete rung and tied the handle around his foot. He lowered both of his arms, letting the normal blood circulation return.

"Are you all right?" called James.

"I'm fine." He was going to leave it at that but recalled the countless times that Yoko told him to lighten up. Belmont cleared his throat then added, "A professional knows when to pace himself."

Alucard smirked, drew in a breath then said, "Aging gracefully, old man?" He unfolded his arms, adjusted his cufflinks then refolded his forearms across his chest. "I bet you could have made it in record time when you were nineteen."

Julius glanced over his shoulder, squinting his eyes at the two men on the first ledge. He saw Arikado crack a slight grin which amused him for some reason. "I'm _twice_ the vampire hunter today." He jerked his left hand out and snapped the Hunter's Whip around the eighth rung then took a deep breath. "All right, back to work." He tugged on the handle with his left hand.

Without warning, the seventh rung cracked and the Vampire Killer came away from its mount. He closed his right hand around the middle of the whip and swung forward by the handle of the second whip in his left hand. The eighth rung also cracked under the new weight and before Julius could react he plummeted into freefall. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard James' voice shouting with worry.

* * *

**A/N**: _I haven't ended with many cliffhangers in this story. I'm usually pretty notorious for it and yet, I've not really done it very often as of late. So I thought I'd do it to ya this time, lol. I know, short chapter this time… at least compared to some of my longer ones. I also fixed up the prologue. I might do the same with the first few chapters… add a date and time, then touch up a few details 'n whatnot. _

_Anyhow, thanks for reading! I've gotten more reviews as of late and I really appreciate that. It's given me a little more motivation to rip through this new chapter and I've already got about two pages of the new one done. For those of you who are here reading ONLY because you're fans of my other work, I assure you that I'm almost ready to post new chapters for Reflections of Fox McCloud, Reflections of a New Generation and… I'm toying with ideas for the latest installment of Spy Cooper. _

_Thanks again for reading! I appreciate it! I hope everyone is enjoying the storyline thusfar. Also, I hope that THIS chapter tied a lot of loose ends together concerning the bad guys and the plot. Any questions? Any foggy gray areas? Let me know!_

_-Kit_


	11. Chapter 10: Caught In The Middle

_A/N: Okay, so I ended with a cliffhanger. But I hardly received any major feedback. C'mon, it was deep right? Book of Revelations, end of the world, seven cities of Asia Minor – Modern Day Turkey – with a nuclear bomb and their missing Prime Minister… heavy stuff… Not a lot of response! _

_:-O_

_It wasn't preachy sounding was it? I was going for "Apocalypse foretold!" or something… Hmm, that'd make a cool band name…_

_ANYhow, I was going to make you wait until the end of the chapter to see how Julius gets through that cliffhanger but then I decided to do the exact opposite. _

_Back to the story!_

_

* * *

_

Chapter -10-  
"Caught in the Middle"

**Julius** **Belmont slammed into a stone ledge. **The impact knocked the air from his body. His torso became numb and he questioned whether it was the feeling of serrated spikes impaling him or if the sharpened metal rods had been an illusion. He pondered the irony of impalement in Dracula's Castle of all places. The hunter opened his eyes; dancing white dots flashed in front of his gaze.

"Seeing stars are you?" asked a feminine voice.

Julius blinked in confusion. Yoko, Camilla, Laura and the girl who brought in the Diamond; they were the _only_ women he could think of but didn't recognize the voice. He squeezed both his left and right fists, finding comfort in the fact that he still had both whips in his grasp. "…wh— Who?" he wheezed.

"Oh you poor darling," said the woman. She knelt down over him, making eye contact. Her blurry image slid into his view then became somewhat clearer. He blinked twice, peering up at the redheaded deity. She offered the aging man an incredible smile then asked, "You don't need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation do you?" A flirty grin hinted at the corner of her lips. It caused an adorable dimple to surface at the crook of her mouth.

She placed a well-manicured fingernail against his nose, trailing it down the camber. Her lacquered red nail met his auburn mustache then continued over his lips. His mouth parted just a bit then he blinked at the taste of strawberries. In response to his expression, she giggled; the sound was like music to his ears. The silvery peels of feminine laughter felt soothing to his soul. He closed his lips around the tip of her finger to confirm whether her nail polish was the source of the fruity taste.

"You like that, huh?" she asked with a grin. "I hope it doesn't disappoint you to find out that I'm a spirit creature." She withdrew her fingertip from the hunter's lips and placed her hand on his chest. "Want to know a secret?" She leaned down and whispered into his ear. Her warm breath caressed his skin bringing goosebumps to his forearms. Her delicately painted lips closed over his earlobe, suckled playfully then released it. In a melodic voice, she told him, "I saved your life, Laird Belmont."

"…Laird?" He coughed then said, "That's an archaic form of _Lord_; who are you?" He sat up slowly, wincing at the pain in his shoulder after having landed with such force. "You're not one of the Countess' girls?"

The woman stood up and placed her hands upon her hips. A cluster of five fluffy foxtails, each two feet in length, curled around her waist, making their presence known. "Camilla?" she exclaimed with a snort of disdain. "Better known to historians as Elizabeth Bathory? Hmph… _Lizzie_ the Lesbian Vampire doesn't embrace Spirit Kin. I suppose, for your sake, I'm closely-related to what you think of when you say, '_fairy_'. The Fae are humanoid versions of my kind – not to be confused with pixies." She reached down, took his right wrist and helped him to his feet. "And I don't have wings… I'm not some silly butterfly or what-have-you. You may call me Sinopa."

Julius recoiled each of his whips, placing them on his belt. He glanced over his shoulder at the pit of spikes behind him then turned back to face her. His eyes lowered, drinking in all the lush feminine details of her figure then lifted to the animalistic ears in her hair. "Why did you save me?"

"For a 'do-gooder', you're certainly a cold bastard. It was an act of kindness, _Lord_ Belmont. Can't a girl simply be concerned for your wellbeing?" Silence. She tightened her jaw to some extent. "Well?"

"Being _cold_ keeps me alive."

She frowned at him. "I see."

"Do you?" he asked, his voice still stern.

Her eyes narrowed to a sharp defiant stare then she added, "I also see that for a decent price you've _bled_ kindness from your heart, Hunter."

"I've learned how to express concern for the innocent without the implication of …kindness." Belmont folded his arms across his chest and offered her a callous glare.

She stepped closer to him then lifted her chin, gazing up at him with an intense expression of despair. She mustered every ounce of loneliness in her soul; her glistening wide eyes met his. With her head tilted upwards, slender neck exposed, she appeared docile. Her lengthy auburn tendrils shifted apart framing her face like parted drapes; the curtain of her bangs stopped just above her brows. Upon closer examination, each strand of her hair had a glistening quality to it. It seemed to shimmer in the dull torchlight from a nearby wall mount. A twinkle of promise danced in her eyes.

He reached his right hand forth and brushed a lock of her dazzling headfur with his fingertips. Julius noted that she had no human ears then dropped his hand to his side. "Spirit fox… You wouldn't have saved my life if you were a kumiho… so you're a _kitsune_ vixen? That makes you Buddhist right?"

The sparkle in her soft eyes intensified; they now held a hint of mirth. "You're a bright one," she replied with a tender smile. "Although the word 'kumiho' is a literal Korean translation for _nine tailed _fox and, as you can see," she fluffed the five magnificent brushes for him. She tilted her head to the right, causing another errant lock of her hair to slide across her face; she then said, "The Buddhist people believe in my kind but our beliefs are far more complex than their own because we exist on a different plane. There are a few commonalities but _our_ idea of religion isn't based on beliefs or faith. It's based on… well it's too much to explain right now. Let's save conversation about the Celestial Bureaucracy for another day." She leaned forward and pressed her velveteen lips against his cheek.

"Why did you save me?" he asked again, his voice gruff.

She tipped her head back to the left; a lock of scarlet brushed over her nose, stopping to partially obscure her left eye. "Did you want to hear something like, '_your death isn't in my best interest,'_ so you don't feel guilty? Lord Belmont, you owe me nothing but appreciation.

"Thank you," he replied. His right hand lifted to brush her bangs from her face. He tucked the errant strand behind the fluffy triangle of her left ear. His eyes flitted down then up. The corner of his mouth tugged into a slight grin. "But why involve yourself?"

"I'll explain it when we have more time." She turned to the oak door against the near wall and opened it for him. "Your important task still awaits my liege. After all, it _must_ be important for you to risk your fragile mortal life."

Julius drew quiet for a moment then, in a calm tone, told her, "Important, yes… but courage is the willpower to selflessly put your life on the line to benefit not only yourself but those around you, when in the face of danger."

She looked delighted, if not completely _amused_, by his reply. "And does it benefit those around you to be dead? You knew how old those rungs were and you gambled with your life to take a shortcut to complete your task. Therefore, it must be an absolutely _imperative_ task. Was it?" She cupped his jaw with her right hand, trailing her thumb over his smoothly shaven cheek. "Don't answer; it's a rhetorical question, darling." Her ears lowered back in her hair and she frowned in an almost scolding way. "Next time, don't be in such a hurry to end your feeble existence; you do more good if you're alive."

Julius glanced over his shoulder across the foggy gap but didn't see Genya or James. He turned back to face her and asked, "If my _existence_ is so feeble, why protect it?"

"…Because I _can_, darling." She gestured with her free hand, motioning towards the open door. "I'm here for business, not pleasure. However, if I _find_ pleasure, I won't argue. Regardless, I've lost something and have tracked it to this citadel."

He returned with a simple nod. "You're here for your …_Hoshi no tama_, right?" Julius stepped through the opened door and she followed him into the next hallway. "Is that what it's called; a star ball?"

"You're quite astute." She linked her arm with his elbow and placed her free hand upon his solid forearm. "My word, Lord Belmont… your mortal build is rather impressive for your age. …But the family clan isn't quite ...average, are they?"

"Thanks; no, they're not." His concise reply received no rebuttal from her. After a moment of quiet walking, he turned his head to her and asked, "I assume you'll stop at nothing to get your diamond back…"

"Indeed," she said with a nod. "But I don't necessarily hurt _humans_ who get in my way. I circumvent them. By the way, do you _know_ how Trevor's great grandparents received their superhuman abilities? It's not simply genetics or some ancient spell."

"No."

She grinned at his simple reply and said, "You're rather to the point, aren't you?" She tightened the link with his forearm then placed her head upon his shoulder. Her gorgeous garnet curls spilled down the backside of his arm. "An ancient descendant of your clan mated with a supernatural and the offspring passed on the blood of that demigod-like creature… it's become thin over the passing of time but you're easily just as mighty as those before you. However… without a fresh infusion, the thinning blood will not help the future generations of your family."

"I don't understand," he told her.

A soft chirring sound emanated from the back of her throat. "You do; more than you initially realize, Lord Belmont. I'm telling you that only by mating with another supernatural will the family's superhuman abilities be preserved for another several dozen generations."

Her inviting purr caused him to shutter involuntarily. Julius found himself unable to think of a clever reply. He offered an awkward smile then turned his gaze back to the hallway before them.

She kept her head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of his breathing, able to discern his change of expression. She grinned then said, "I'm not necessarily offering myself, my Lord. I'm simply telling you that's how you should preserve your bloodline's signature trait. As it stands, it takes discipline to harness the powers you wield. You've trained at a young age to tap in to those abilities. But for Trevor, Christopher and Simon, it came as natural as migration, caching or any other animal instinct that Mother Nature provides to her children."

"I see." He couldn't be sure why he allowed this woman to be so close; something made her seem trustworthy. He disengaged his arm with hers and shrugged her head from his shoulder then told her, "Speaking of _instinctive_, stop using your powers on me."

"Pardon?" She looked up at him with shimmering, deep eyes.

Julius narrowed his gaze but continued to walk with her. "The kitsune are rumored to have powers; one of which is the ability to seduce. I don't think it's intended to be sexual; you just want me to _trust_ you. Whatever your intent may be, I want you to cut it out."

"Stop trying to be _trustworthy_?" She lifted her left hand, tucking a tendril of scarlet behind her ear. "What're you talking about, Lord Belmont?"

"You saved my life; I don't _dis_trust you – buttering me up with your aura isn't necessary; stop it." He placed his hands on the reassuring tools of his trade. His fingertips moved over each coiled whip then closed into a fist, which came to rest on his hips. "Simply _Julius_ will do, _lady_."

"Sinopa," she replied almost overtop of his last spoken word. She offered a thin smile then, "It's not like I do it intentionally. I'm just…"

He smirked and finished her sentence. "…A woman making 'pretty-eyes.' Yeah, well, I'm a professional and I'm here to do a job. They don't make safety nets for work like this. While rare, there have been incidents in the past where a Belmont has been killed because they weren't careful. _Distractions_ can prove fatal. Now, I've said enough; it's quiet time."

"I can respect that, Julius. I know you're a professional, it's just…"

Belmont lifted a hand; he gestured her to silence. "If you _really_ respect me, just nod and hush like I asked. Keep your _ears_ sharp." He drew quiet and uncoiled the Vampire Killer whip. Tranquility filled the hall and the two walked side by side with cautious footsteps. She followed Julius' lead and made each footfall as silent as his.

She sniffed at the air; her eyes widened with the realization that he somehow sensed another presence in their area. Whether his senses were more in tune than her own, she couldn't be sure. Her triangular orange-furred ears perked up from her generous red locks.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

**The fur upon Justus Bell's neck stood on end; **his vertical-slit eyes dilated by one eighth of an inch. He widened his stance, lowered his upper body and hunched over with a snarl. His arms opened wide, claws extended. He walked forward at a slow pace and approached the skeletal enemy opposite of him.

The demonic skeleton leaned in, mimicking his posture upon approach. Its brazen pirouette of a bony staff caused the werewolf's ears to flicker in annoyance. The menacing body language, the clinking of boney joints and the deep _whoosh_ of the twirled bone-spear brought about intense sensations for Justus. He blinked and shook his head roughly.

His gaze returned to the spear; it appeared to glisten but a double take proved otherwise. The flit of a glittering arc filled the gap of air between his enemy and his body. The skeleton pivoted on his boney heel and swiped his staff outward but Justus leapt back. He blinked three times, able to make out the hint of another glittering arc – this one higher. As if on cue, the skeleton took another swipe but this time aimed for his face. Justus jerked his head back, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Realization struck. _'I'm able to sense his attacks before he makes them_,' he thought. He blinked again, discerning the hint of a glittering trail. The invisible arc swooped downward; the skeleton shifted his body again. Justus bent his knees…

The enemy shifted his shoulders then swung the staff low in an attempt to take the wolf's ankles. Justus's legs straightened and he bounded over the staff attack. Airborne, the sensation of time slowed around him. The wolf's eyes dropped, watching the staff pass beneath his hind paws. The deep sound of rushing air seemed extended and drawn out to his ears. He remembered this similar sensation during one of his earlier battles with the undead zombies.

His mind raced through ways to counterattack his opponent; he thrust his arms forward. The claws met the bone-gray forehead, piercing the skull with ease. Justus followed through with a downward motion, leaving multiple gashes in the demonic skeleton's face. His body began a slow descent. After what seemed like a moment, his feet connected with the granite tiles. He sank into a crouched position then, still trapped in the temporal effects, he jumped forward to begin the next attack.

Justus forced his right paw beneath the boney jaw but his body's power seemed like an overreaction of some sort. He flew forward, over the skeleton's shoulders, taking the head with him. He dove through the air and put his arms out; upon finally returning to the ground, he tucked into a loose roll.

Without warning, the sensation of protracted time ended. His ears perked up at the sharp sound of bones striking the floor. He glanced over his shoulder and noted the pile of skeletal pieces on the ground. Wedged upon one of his claws, the beheaded opponent snapped its jaw several times as if trying to bite. It remained skewered upon one of his claws, harmlessly hammering its teeth together.

He jerked his arm outwards reflexively as if ridding oneself of an insect from the backside of their hand. The skull flew into the nearest wall and shattered like a light bulb with a sound similar to just such an occurrence. The sharp pop caused his ears to flicker then flatten against the top of his short tousled headfur. Justus shook his head as if disoriented by the noise. He swallowed back saliva and his ears popped, providing relief to his hearing by ending the ringing in his head.

He said the only thing that came to his mind. "…Jesus!"

A reply startled him. "He can't help you, doggy." The words came from a doorway on his left. He craned his head, glaring at two thugs by the wall. They wore studded leather jackets with fishnet shirts beneath. One wore brass knuckles on each hand while the other held a metal cylinder. Attached at the end, a row of metal links trailed down to a spiked ball that rested on the floor by his boot. He jerked the handle of his mace upwards and the metal ball, about the size of a standard bowling ball, lurched into the air.

Both smiled; each possessed clean, porcelain-looking fangs. They resembled stereotypical leather thugs straight out of New York's 1980's era. The one with the metal knuckles had greasy hair, styled with Jheri curls.

The other sported a hi-top fade haircut with lightning bolts shaved into the side, above his ears. A patch depicting an eight-ball covered the upper sleeves with a larger one on the back.

Justus paused to gawk at them. "Are you _kidding_ me?" His ears perked up and his facial expression lightened with amusement. "You _can't_ be serious. You two look like something out of MTV's "Attack of the 90's" archive. What the hell are you two doing in _Dracula's Castle_? What the hell kind of joke _is_ this?"

The one with the spiked mace rattled the chain of his weapon then began to swing it again. "It's no joke, _Teen Wolf_. We're here to put you to sleep… permanently."

Justus relaxed his wide-eyed glare; his eyelids lowered halfway and his expression became one of sarcastic disbelief. "So you guys are, what, seventy-five years old – give or take? You're vampires who grew up in the streets of New York City or whatever… and now you sport the styles of your _mortal past_, right? Jesus, when people say a certain style 'died', you guys must have died along with it. I can understand a five hundred year old vampire walking around in renascence festival clothes but… _this_ is really sad."

"I'm gonna tear his arms off," said the one with the brass knuckles.

Justus balked with laughter. "Listen to you! How did you morons wind up in lower east Europe, looking like that?"

"Shut your English-sounding yap," said the one with the stacked, high hair. Its flat-topped shape reminded Justus of an ice cream cone to some extent.

"You two yanks are _way_ out of your league," retorted Bell. He pushed his paws together and cracked his knuckles with a sickening cadence of crackling and popping noises.

The thug with the curly hair pushed his left fist into his right palm. "Rice Krispies Wolf thinks he's showing off, M.C. Mc G."

The hi-top haired mace-swinging man with the eight balls on his leather jacket offered a smirk to his friend. "This crazy cat is straight out of the Saturday Morning Cartoons, Fly."

"Heard that, Mc G; straight up. Let's jack this guy up and turn'em into a coat or something." He nodded to his own suggestion. His greasy curls bounced with the movement of his head. A smarmy yet glistening wet mark covered the shoulders of his jacket. He drew his fists into a fighting stance, displaying his metallic knuckles. For the first time, Justus could see that the metal design on his fists spelled out two words. One read, _'funky' _while the other was, _'fresh_'. "Let's beat this beefeater down like it's the Boston Tea Party, if ya know what I'm saying."

Justus simply stood there, unable to take either vampire seriously. "Beefeater? Boston Tea Party? And just where did you two bozos learn _anything_ about England?"

"KRS-1," said the other with the goofy tall hair. "Now shut your British-talkin' face. It's time to whip the dog."

Bell approached them casually. He swiped his clawed paw at the space between the handle and spiked ball. His feral claws diced through the chain with relative ease. Several links went flying and the metal ball became embedded in the ceiling. The werewolf then drew both of his arms up as if curling small weights. Both men had their hair shredded, ruining the archaic trends.

The one known as _Fly_ drew his right fist back then lurched forward. The glossy metal plate, reading "_Funky_", met Justus' padded palm with a sharp slapping noise. The werewolf closed his massive paw over the man's hand then lifted him up into the air by his fist. He offered the hip-hop classic a row of incisors, grinning much like Alice's Cheshire cat. "Don't screw with me," Justus told the man through clinched teeth. "Where is Molly?"

"Who the hell is Molly?" replied the vampire, shaking his head rapidly. The remaining curls of his hair bounced about on the sides of his face but they looked gaudy and tackier now that his bangs were missing. "I don't know anyone named _Molly_, you fruitcake fur ball! I'm gonna' tan your hide for ruining my hairdo!"

"Wow," said Justus in a calm and relaxed tone. "That was definitely _not_ the right answer." He closed his paw around the man's right hand, crushing every bone until there were more breaks than joints and fingers combined. "I'll ask again: Where is Molly?"

The other vampire shrugged hard, rolling the jacket up over his shoulders. He used the metal handle to strike Justus in the kidney but didn't anticipate the werewolf's adrenaline rush. He blinked, seeing that his blunt-force attack caused no reaction. The lupine's other paw swung out, throwing the vampire across the room with excessive force. His body left a distinctive impression in the far wall. He remained there, dazed from the powerful strike.

The top lip of Justus' muzzle curled up in a snarl. "You're looking for the diamond, right?" His amber gaze narrowed sharply.

"Yes!" said the first vampire, held in Justus' intense grip. "We're trying to find it so we can use it on Alucard!"

"I don't personally _know_ anyone named Alucard," hissed the werewolf. "So, you're another one like the so-called _'vampire'_ I faced earlier." Bell put his foot against the blood drinker's gut, forcing the man's body up, aligned with the doorframe. "Tell me where the girl is, or _I'll_ rip _your_ goddamn arm off, pal." He tightened the muscles of his leg to hold the man against the wall then tightened his arm, putting slight strain on the vampire's shoulder joint.

"You'll what?" exclaimed Fly. "I don't know any Molly!"

"Wrong answer," said the wolf. He jerked his paw back, tearing the entire arm free from the body. He pulled it out of the leather sleeve, which drooped down alongside the man's torso. Blood ran from the empty leather lagging. It poured onto the floor from the cuff. Justus tossed the arm over his shoulder. The bloody stump above the bicep created a puddle of slick blood on the tiles.

"Are you kidding me?" Justus exclaimed, surprised not only by his own strength but also from the ease with which he disarmed his opponent. "That was freakin' awesome!" He put his foot down, causing the vampire to drop unceremoniously upon his rump. The injured bloodsucker looked up at the towering werewolf, scared for his own immortality.

"I swear we don't know anyone named Molly!" he repeatedly chanted in a miserable way. His whiney blathering turned to whimpering and, ultimately, to groveling.

"Okay, that was really overboard," Justus said, only semi-phased by what just transpired. "I've never ripped people apart before today," he said, adding, "I'm a little high on adrenaline or something. You guys really _are_ vampires, right?"

Fly reached his left hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a fragmentation grenade. He brought the small object to his lips, bit the ring and pulled it from the weapon. He held it up towards Justus with his remaining arm.

Bell's eyes widened and his pupils shrank to two vertical lines. He backhanded the weapon away. It bounced twice on the floor and landed over by M.C. Mc G. In an instinctive attempt at self-preservation, Justus grabbed Fly's left wrist and flung his entire body over towards the grenade. The vampire's remaining greasy curls fluttered in the wind. His body crashed down on top of the grenade just as it detonated, absorbing the explosion.

Justus' ears lowered from the semi-muffled crack of the grenade. He blanked out from the dizzying volume. His ears rang painfully. By the time he shook off the effects, he saw Fly standing up. The hole-ridden vampire's shredded jacket resembled the equally ragged torso of his body. He slumped against the wall, unable to stand very well. Entire chunks of flesh were missing from his right hip and mid torso. Ribs jutted out and yet he wasn't dead.

Mc G forced himself out of the wall depression, having regained his senses. "Man, what the hell did you do to my bro?"

Justus snatched the other vampire by his collar and lifted him from the floor. "If you don't want to be next, go and tell all your buddies that I'm looking for Molly. Take your Swiss-cheese friend with you." He thrust his arm out and forced M.C. Mc G into the wall again, pushing him further into the granite block than before. "I'm pretty sure that removing your heads will kill ya' right? That's how vampires die, yeah? Maybe I should test the theory." He squeezed the leach's collar even tighter than before.

"I'll tell the others!" shouted the vampire. His goofy hair, which now had clawed gashes up the front section, was pushed forward over his forehead from the way he was shoved into the wall. The seams of his jacket tore at the shoulders from the stress against the fabric after being slammed through a concrete wall two times. He struggled, unable to move very well.

"Let me say it in a way you two will understand," said the werewolf, still inwardly amused by the two American fashion disasters. "If either of you come after me again, I'll _jack you up_. I said that correctly, right?"

"S-sure," stammered the vampire from his temporary cookie-cut prison in the concrete. "Y-yeah, man. All jacked up; you got it, Teen Wolf. Anything you say, big guy."

"Cute." Justus released his collar, shoved the raggedy second vampire out of his way then walked to the door. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the one in the wall then the other with the tattered flesh and frayed leather jacket. He told them both, "Stay funky and fresh… or whatever." He left the room and shut the door behind himself.

* * *

**Yoko Belnades pushed open the door to the** stable; her eyes widened. Her gaze met and locked with Hammers; she broke into a sprint towards him. She acted unlike ten years ago when she didn't even know he was alive. He'd worked his way into her heart little by little. Smile by smile, one nervous sweat drop at a time. Now she wore his promise-ring. 

Hammer enveloped her lithe form into his arms and she launched herself into his embrace. "I was lost in there; I couldn't call you – there's just so much going on!"

"Aw, gee," Hammer said, grinning at the simple fact that he was holding her again. "I know what ya mean; I spoke to Julius and we figured out what you were tryin' to piece together in the ride over… then this animal-fox-lady visited and my only customer since Julius was'a _ghost_ who asked if he could buy a current _newspaper_ but didn't have _physical_ money."

Yoko slipped from his arms. "I'm glad Julius is alive." She paused then asked, "But what did you two figure out concerning that guy from Moscow?"

Hammer sat down on a stacked crate. "Yeah, man; Julius thinks that the country of Turkey dropped that bomb and, y'know, based on the fighter I saw before the flash… he _could_ be right. Just the same, the van was in the courtyard and it's dead; everything electronic in it is dead."

"Oh," Yoko placed a comforting palm on his cheek. "I'm sorry; I know how much your gear means to you. Is any of it salvageable?"

"Yeah, yeah, a few things that were inside my pockets at the time; lucky I was in the stable when it flashed, right?" Hammer rubbed the backside of his neck with his hand. He wanted to pull her into his lap but couldn't find the gull to be so bold. They'd made out many times and got snuggly over a movie once but he still felt so shy about displaying intimacy around her for some reason. Hammer cleared his throat then said, "Julius thinks Turkey did it because of what that Moscow guy said… about the first Seven of Eleven; he said that stuff pertains to the names of these seven cities in the first eleven chapters of the Book of Revelation because they're all located in modern-day Turkey, you know?"

Yoko's eyes widened. "Oh …crap."

"Hon? What is it?" Hammer slid off the crate and approached her.

Yoko placed her left hand over her mouth and tucked her scepter beneath her arm. "The flash is the beginning sign. Turkey introduces itself into the mix, and then the three of swords refers to the son of Dracula; that means Justus was right! If they successfully force that stone into the hands of Alucard, it will usher in the first days that signify the End of Times is beginning. I've got to find Mister Arikado and …tell him to warn Alucard."

Hammer offered her a soft smile, seeking out the opportunity to spend more time with her. "I'm pretty sure my man Soma isn't gonna show; maybe I should go with you."

"I suppose that would be all right," she said with a tender expression. She leaned up to Hammer, hand on his chest, and pressed her soft lips against his bottom one. He froze to better enjoy it but she _could_ at least feel the soft plying of his lips. Yoko smiled at the indication of him returning the kiss. She put her weight on her tiptoes then lifted her left foot into the air, behind herself.

Hammer brought his hands to her hips and she propelled herself upwards by another inch to better lean into the kiss. She then whispered against his lips, "Thanks for being thoughtful."

He leaned forward and whispered back into her ear. What he didn't realize was that his warm breath gave her the goosebumps. She then frowned at his words. "Yoko, are there monsters in there?"

She nodded then gazed back up at him. He offered her a smile then un-holstered two impressive magnum caliber handguns from the backside of his belt, beneath his shirt and Flack Vest. "Modified silver hollow rounds; each with a drop of Holy Water, just like ya' suggested." He offered her a grin.

She smiled weakly and nodded. Part of her expected him to be more romantic in reply but she couldn't really argue, either. Yoko leaned back, shifting her weight on her heels. She pulled her scepter back out then nodded again in recognition of his Church-blessed ammunition. "You might want something with more kick, just in case."

"Oh I've got plenty of _more kick_ in the van, Yoko." He grinned at her then hurried out to the cargo van. He holstered his handguns and began rummaging around in the back of the boxy automobile. "Gimmie just a second, sweetheart. I've got a Belgian beauty here – a Fabrique Nationale Project-90… nine hundred magnum rounds per minute in clips of _fifty_ at a time. Just like the two pistols, these have SS195LF hollow-point 5.7 x 28 millimeter rounds with a copper jacket over a silver core. Each one contains a sealed – single drop of Roman Holy Water. Plus," he trailed off while rummaging around in the back of the van. He lifted two impressively futuristic looking shotguns. Hammer picked up the SPAS-15 from its metal locker then tilted his head. "Only seven round magazine on this puppy; nah… how about…" He looked over the second weapon sporting the unique bullpup design popular with European brands then said, "…This. An American model rare-bird that never saw mass production… I'll bring the white phosphorous ammo cassettes for it…" He lifted the front-heavy weapon proudly. "This is the Mk3A1 jackhammer with a flame-tempered iron-cast barrel and specially re-designed melt-resistant interior."

"…Hammer, you know I'm not much of a gun buff," she replied with a slight frown. "I don't really know what any of that stuff means."

"No, but I do. Vampires won't stand a chance," he said with a slight grin, looking much like a boy in a candy store. He shouldered the other two weapons by their straps then secured them and checked their safety. "The Pancor Jackhammer is a shotgun that fires 4 rounds per second. White Phosphorous burns over twelve hundred degrees, so it's like shooting a machine-gun that happens to be crossed between a shotgun and a flamethrower. The other one is just a rapid fire submachine gun personal defense weapon; it'll spit out fifty rounds, filled with – ."

Yoko stifled him with another quick kiss. She then said, "Hush. We're wasting time. Instead of talking about it, just _show_ me, okay? Let's go." She waited for him to shut the cargo doors to the van then headed up the stone steps to the main entrance. She drew the scepter from beneath her arm and gave it a playful twirl then peered in through the large wooden door. "It looks all clear. Follow me and stay close."

"…Right behind you," said Hammer. He followed her into the grand hall.

The two of them ran into the main hall. Their footfalls echoed off the fantastic marble walls and decadent floor tiles. A group of freakishly heinous demons stopped in a doorway across the hall. They glanced over their shoulders to the newcomers then spoke gibberish to one another. Three continued into the next room as if on a mission while four of them filed back into the main hall.

"Aw damn," Hammer muttered under his breath. "Don't we just have great timing, hon?"

"Leave it to me," said Yoko. "I mean it, Hammer. Stay back unless I need your help. It's for the best."

"Hon, I know you've not actually seen me fight something other than a really drunk tavern bouncer but…"

Yoko narrowed her eyes, forced to remember the embarrassing situation. She spoke through clinched teeth. "_Not_ a good time to bring that up!" Without a further word, she broke into a sprint, lifting her scepter. She had a small hip bag slung over her arm with her spell book but the bottom of the bag was secured to her hip by the black belt she wore. The four demonic miscreants fanned out and tried to flank her.

She pushed her left hand out and a triumvirate of glowing orbs spewed from her palm. Yoko also lifted the glowing scepter, smacking the closest demon in the face with it. She leapt upwards, adding momentum to the attack. She flew past the surprised center opponent then dropped to the ground in a half crouch. A split second later, two of his teeth hit the ground, bouncing across the floor.

He swung his putrid, rotted arm out and struck her across the shoulder. Yoko's shoulder blades met with the nearest wall. The four demons immediately turned to face her, closing in on their nearby prey. She stood up then pushed her free hand outwards again. The dazzling glow of magical fire erupted from her fingertips, rushing between two of the demons. It managed to catch one of them, causing his arm to burst into flames.

The burning monster pulled back from his other three brothers in an attempt to rid himself of the fiery pain. He pushed his body up against the nearest wall to smother the flames. Another freakish beast attacked from the left, baring his teeth. He opened his jaw and lunged for her.

The deafening crack of a gunshot filled the large empty room. The fang-baring monstrosity canted to the side and stumbled to the floor, adjacent to Yoko. She glanced down at him, noting that a fist-sized hole passed through his head. Steam began to rise above his large wound and the other monsters glanced over to notice their injured brethren. The bloody wound bubbled up as though hydrogen peroxide was poured on it.

Yoko felt an intense heat fill the area. She instinctively threw her arms up to cover her face and crouched down on the ground to shy away from the awesome thermal sensation. She could hear painful screeching but the proximity of heat made it impossible to peek through her arms.

Three thuds came from the floor nearby. The feeling of heat died down and she sat up on her knees, watching as the three remaining bodies writhed in agony. Hammer stood beyond them with a smoking shotgun in his right hand and a magnum pistol in his left. "I told you to let me help," he said in a soft voice that bordered somewhere between _'I told you so' _and _'I am proud of myself._'.

"What?" he asked with a slight grin. "We're a team right?"

Belnades' eyes returned to the three writhing bodies on the floor, burning to a crisp before her eyes then she glanced over at the monster with a new hole in his head. Steam wafted out, created from the purifying chemical reaction of the Holy Water round lodged inside the demon's head. The wail of its death rattles filled the hall; it gurgled on blood and phlegm, while its body reacted in violent spasms.

"But what if you run out of ammo too early?" she squeaked, still on her knees.

He shook his head. "Not quite." He offered her a grin then opened his jacket to show her two ammo belts, each crisscrossed over his t-shirt. He then turned on his heel, offering her a side-profile angle. She could plainly see the case of ammunition clipped to the backside of his belt.

"I'm embarrassed," she retorted with a sigh. "I had no problems before now and I told you to stay back… then the first fight you see me in turns sour in just seconds."

"I've seen you when you're surrounded; remember that exorcism in Montego last year?"

Yoko offered a shy smile then reached for his offered hand, coming to her feet. "I do. Those creatures climbed out of the man's body and quickly surrounded me. I harnessed the power of lightning to strike me just as they all reached for my arms and my shirt collar."

"I remember it pretty good," he returned. Hammer blew the smoke from his shotgun's hot, softened metal barrel. He then grinned and added, "I saw your hair stand on end from across the room. Suddenly a bolt of lightning reached in through the nearest window and struck you. It threw every monster into the nearest wall so hard that it destroyed all of them."

She smiled. "All right, you made your point. Let's go after those other three." She turned towards the door and Hammer followed her through it. At the end of the next hall, Genya Arikado was fending off the three remaining freaks while James Johnson cowered on the floor, behind the dhamphir's feet.

Arikado opened his arms wide and, to Yoko's amazement, the world around her froze to a halt. Hammer, standing beside her, held his small submachine gun in his outstretched right hand. A sharp frozen flash of orange extended from the front of the muzzle and a stream of rounds reached out into the open space, frozen in time. A motionless ripple-like bubble surrounded the rounds with a distorted yet translucent wave in their wake.

She canted her head back to Arikado; confusion marred her brow. "I don't understand." Her gaze panned over to the stationary statue coterie of demons, fifty feet in front of her frozen fiancé. "How did you do this?"

"The more puzzling inquiry is why it had no effect on you," said Alucard with a frown. He lowered his arms and approached the nearest demon, frozen in the large, open room. "What is your mortal beau doing?"

Yoko glanced back at the suspended rounds coming from the weapon. "Hammer's rounds are specially designed with Roman Holy Water for killing hell spawn, Sir." She plucked one out of its motionless track. Her eyes widened. "It's so heavy," said the sorceress. She tensed her arm from the bullet's surprising weight then carried it over to the nearest hellish creature.

"That is to be expected," replied Alucard. "Its weight is comprised of the mass multiplied by force of thrust. That tiny little object should weigh about half as much as _you_." He held his hands out, palms facing towards the weapon. The other bullets floated through the air, slowly, until they reached his palm. He closed his fingers around them. "Quite so; each one weighs as much as an average two meter claymore sword."

She looked down at the heavy thumb-sized object in her hands. "A six foot sword weighs this much?" Her arms began to ache simply holding the little bullet. "This has to be at least fifty-five pounds."

"As I said, about half your weight," said Alucard, adding, "I still can't fathom why you weren't frozen by my spell." He took all the rounds into his right hand making it seem effortless. His left hand reached into his blazer pocket, withdrawing a small blue pocket watch. He flipped the lid open with his thumb and glanced at the second hand. "Theoretically, you _should_ be as frozen as everyone else in this room; such is quite puzzling."

"It's for the best," said Yoko. "I needed to speak with you, Sir. Have you seen Julius, Lord Alucard?"

"Indeed," replied the dhamphir with a frown. He used his thumb to close the pocket watch, depositing it into his blazer pocket. "He's currently missing and I fear for the worst."

Yoko blinked. "Did he tell you about the Diamond?"

Alucard offered a curt nod. "He mentioned it but I'm well aware. I can sense my father's presence but cannot pinpoint its location. Julius, however, was last spotted in the midst of a fatal fall – I cannot be sure whether or not he has survived."

Yoko gaped. "What happened?" Her arms ached from the weight of the bullet in her cupped hands. She approached the nearest demon and relocated the bullet into a hovering track less than an inch from the demon's head then turned back to Alucard. "If he made a fatal fall, what makes you question the feasibility of his death? Surly, you're holding out some measure of hope which isn't like you."

Dracula's son offered her a mild smirk. "Miss Belnades, are you calling me a pessimist?" He nodded in an approving way to her actions concerning the bullet. He approached the other two demons, telling her, "He fell from granite rungs into a bed of spikes from a high altitude. No one could have survived that fall and, by all rights, he should be impaled."

Yoko tilted her head at the way he voiced his words then placed her hands on her hips and, in a demanding voice, asked, "Well?"

"You _know_ what I am, Miss Belnades. He disappeared into the fog that hovered above the bed of spikes but I couldn't see his remains. I could _not_ smell spilt blood. It's as though he vanished upon contact with the spikes, leaving me to wonder if they were simply an ancient illusion."

Yoko's eyes widened with some measure of hope and a hint of relief. "Could he have survived hitting the floor from that height?"

"Surly not," Alucard told her. "And if he did, he would have succumbed to his broken body by now. However, as I said before, I could not detect even the faintest hint of death in the air. Even now, I can tell that you and your betrothed have dispatched four demons in the other room just because I can smell four distinctive death scents from here."

Yoko glanced back at the door from which she'd come. "Even with the door shut? I'm surprised."

"We're downwind; I can also detect their foul stench on your clothes."

The sorceress drew her sleeve to her nose and sniffed then shook her head. "Nothing."

"I was born with this ability," Alucard reminded in a stern tone. "I've more than perfected it over time. I'm telling you that Julius _should_ be dead but… I do not have confirmation because I couldn't detect the scent of his death. As I said, it's as though he has vanished in the fog shroud just before contact with the serrated metal."

Yoko, again, looked hopeful. "I've heard of rare cases in teleportation; could it be possible for him to have materialized elsewhere?"

Alucard turned his attention back to the two remaining demons. "He, personally, is not capable of such a feat, I'm afraid." He then distributed the remaining rounds into place so that they were a mere inch from their intended mark. "It makes little sense to bless _guns_ and their ammunition, Yoko. I can see a sword because it is an extension of your body when used in battle, just as a monk would wield a cross when fighting the unholy."

Yoko offered a thin smile. "Never heard of blessing arrows or their bows?" She re-approached Hammer and placed her hand beneath the weapon. With a guiding touch, she caused him to aim at the ceiling then said, "He's not yet released the trigger; I wouldn't want anyone harmed by overshooting."

"Indeed," Alucard responded in a distant way. He backed away from the demons then stood before the cowering librarian on the floor. "I wish for your lover to take James Johnson to the courtyard and protect him. This man isn't a part of your realm. He arrived with the castle and is a mortal from the other side, wherever the Castle was placed when transferred to the Solar Eclipse. I do not yet understand this other plane, but it's not the same as our mortal world."

"Do you intend on moving the Castle to a _different_ place, this time?"

Alucard nodded in reply to her words. "We cannot have it showing up every time there is a Solar Eclipse; its physical foundation currently rests at the top of Mount Purgatory and I intend to change that. I wish to find a way to remove it from its foundation and place it on the hot sandy bank of the Acheron River."

"Why place the castle on the shores of Hell, Lord Alucard?"

The dhamphir smirked. "Without its foundation, it will eventually crumble in the soft sand. That is my intention. I need for you to accompany me, Miss Belnades. We have to reactivate the teleportation chambers; Julius disappeared while attempting to complete this mission. I cannot simply assume he will be able to finish it, now that he is missing."

"I understand," Yoko replied with a dejected sigh. She offered another grim smile and asked, "But you can't verify his death?"

"I question the validity of his death." He pointed towards Hammer and she nodded in submission. The woman moved behind her loved one, where she would be safe from the gunfire. "For now, it is merely an assumption not grounded in fact. Make ready your auditory senses."

Yoko nodded from over Hammer's shoulder then cupped her hands over her ears. At the dhamphir's will, linier time returned with a fantastic crack of sound. The overlapping noise of gunshots filled the room for each bullet already fired, followed by the sound of fresh bullets being fired a split second later. The first set of rounds found their mark, striking the demons with pinpoint accuracy. Five remaining rounds erupted from the barrel and struck high on the wall and along the ceiling on the opposite side of the large chamber.

Each demonic being's skull erupted in a splatter of gore. A grim montage of deep scarlet splashed the floor and facing stone bulkhead. All three bodies dropped to the granite floor in silence. The gun went silent, followed by a victorious eruption from Hammer.

"Yeah, baby! Look at that! Multiple headshots! I couldn't have done that again if I tried!"

Yoko grinned at her boyfriend and said, "Very impressive, Hammer. Who knew you were such a sharpshooter?"

The modest ex-soldier offered a shy chuckle. "I think I just got lucky, Yoko. The only thing is… there was more kickback than I anticipated."

"How do you mean?" she asked with an innocent sounding tone.

"I got off a few shots and the next thing I know, I'm plugging away at the ceiling. I must have gotten over-excited because this thing usually has reasonable recoil. No matter, though. The gun did its job, right?" He released the handle and flipped the safety then he turned to the well-dressed gentleman who stood tall and the balding man who knelt on the floor. "Hey! Sweetheart, isn't that your friend, Mister Arikado?"

"Why, yes it is! And it appears to me that they owe you their gratitude for dispatching their enemies." She turned to Alucard with an expectant gaze and half-hidden smile.

"…Indeed," Alucard muttered. He folded his arms across his chest, looking for the words to express his 'appreciation'.

James Johnson stood up, blinking rapidly. He looked to the bodies on the floor and covered his mouth. His gaze flitted back to the dark-skinned man with the personal defense weapon. "Well, _I'm_ certainly thankful!" he erupted. "You should accompany us, mister! I'd feel a lot safer with you around… I'm James Johnson."

"You can call me Hammer," replied the gunner with a sheepish sort of grin. He felt pleased with his handiwork. "I don't see why not; I'd be happy to stick around – I have _plenty_ of ammunition."

"Hammer," said Yoko in her most feminine voice. She batted her lashes to her fiancé and asked, "Can you escort Mister Johnson to safety? I'm going to accompany Genya Arikado in a mission and I need to know someone I trust can protect this innocent man."

"I… uh, don't see why not," Hammer replied.

Yoko leaned up on her tiptoes and placed her lips against the corner of Hammer's mouth. Despite their engaged status, he still blushed from her public display of affection. She then whispered into his ear. "You're so good to me. I'll see you soon; stay safe."

Johnson approached Hammer and fell into step behind the retired soldier. Hammer waved for the man to follow and lead him through the nearest door, backtracking through the Castle's grand hall.

"What do you see in the weapon's vendor?"

Yoko turned to Alucard, shrugged and said, "He really grows on you; he's a real sweetheart. Anyhow, lead the way."

The regally dressed gentleman opened the door opposite from the direction Hammer and Johnson went. He gestured to her with a sweeping motion. "Ladies first, Miss Belnades."

* * *

A/N: _I'm going to take a short Hiatus from this story but it won't be long. I do it every so often, here and there. I need to focus on things that people have been waiting for over in Sly Cooper land. My story, Spy Cooper, now has people PMing me and even writing poems about how I've abandoned them. They've been waiting since March so… I owe it to them. I have about 10 readers for THIS story that I know of. I have over 40 known readers (40 that I know by name) for the Sly Cooper stuff and about double that many still wait for my StarFox updates. Ah well, but I DO like Claws Of Fate. I enjoy writing it a LOT, so I'll continue to update it on and off between now and December. I'll not simply 'forget about it'. I promise! _


	12. Chapter 11: History Lesson

Chapter -**11**-  
History Lesson

**Julius wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.** He glanced over at the demure looking kitsune then coiled the _Vampire Killer_ whip into his hands. The _Hunter's whip_ remained upon his belt. He glanced down at it then back at her and tilted his head. "You seem to know a lot about the Belmont family. Do you know when I was born?"

Sinopa Crevan tilted her head. Her silky red locks cascaded down her right cheek and a smile tugged at her lush lips. "I do believe you were born in the spring, six months before Ronald Regan was voted into office. That makes you a Jimmy Carter baby, Julius."

Belmont held his hand up, palm out. His eyes narrowed as if challenging her. "You've an interesting sense of humor. So, if you know so much about the Belmont family, where did _this_ come from?" Julius' arm extended, offering the coiled whip outwards.

"It was first blessed by the hands of an alchemist. Later, it was fused with the soul of Sara Trantoul. It's been blessed countless times, enchanted by holy water rituals, empowered by the magic of the Belnades family and drenched in the blood of Count Dracula. Have I missed anything?"

He blinked several times then cocked his head and lowered the weapon. "Then answer me this, as I'm curious to know… what is its true age?"

Sinopa approached him and placed her palms on the whip. She closed her eyes and in a soft whisper, told him, "It was created… Oh my. I assumed it was slightly older than when Leon Belmont first obtained it but what an _irony_…" She looked up at Julius and lifted her right hand, brushing her hair back. "It's _ten centuries_ old, exactly. Do you know what this means?"

"It's one thousand years old this year," he replied.

"A millennia, Julius. Surely that whip puts the fear of God into Count Dracula."

"I thought you don't exactly believe in God." He reattached the whip upon his belt, opposite of the Hunter's Whip, and then stepped over several dead demons on his way to the door.

"Count Dracula does," she retorted. "And I'm not challenging the prospect of one true Creator, Julius. Did you know that Baron Belmont, the first to possess that whip, had a father of equal power? In fact, it was Leon's father who finished a bloodmagic spell started by _his_ father… how amusing, no? A supernatural man, created by the mating of a human to a creature such as myself… and with all of his esoteric power, he becomes a Christian Crusader; how noble, no?"

"Not much is known about Baron Leon Belmont," Julius told her. He opened the large wooden door at the far end of the room and held it for her. "How do you know all of this? Are you the woman-creature who mated into the Belmont bloodline?"

"No." She stepped through the door, glanced about the empty hallway then peered over her shoulder at Julius. "She's dead. The Christians were so scared of their own Bible that they hid behind it to murder countless others. And, yet, it's true that they did succeed in killing several beings who were not of the pure human persuasion. That is a dark chapter in the early Belmont history – she's been reincarnated twice since that time. But she _is_ the mother of the Belmont Clan and its shiny, noble lineage. Again, after a thousand years, even her potent blood is wearing thin. Be glad that Dracula is dead. It came down to the wire, if you ask me. Your family was feared for several generations, because the population knew that your line was born from something not quite human. She was murdered in her sleep by a Christian lynch mob, claiming to kill in the name of God… C'est la vie. For a short time, the Belmont descendants were on the run. Trevor saved lower Europe in the 1470's but that was forgotten fifteen years later, when Columbus made news of his own. The Belmont family remained quiet when able… And the populace still feared them… That is, until Simon became a champion of the people."

The hybrid vixen placed her palm against his forearm and smiled. "To answer your question, I know because several of my tribe were called upon to watch various supernatural protagonists. They're worried the Belmont bloodline will lose their powers over the next several generations. I'm sorry there isn't a history book about your family. I'm sorry you're forgotten by the world, and have become a myth to a rare few historians of old…"

Julius waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. "Popularity means nothing. I'm a Belmont – it's my _job_."

Sinopa grinned at him. "Richter used to tell people that. Annette was a wonderful wife for that man, but what do you know of her sister, Maria?"

Julius continued down the hallway, trying to remember all the details from the genealogy book he owned. "She had magical abilities and helped rescue her brother-in-law about five years later… I don't know too much about what happened to the Renard line."

The woman patted his forearm then said, "Ask Alucard. It seems as though he can't stay away from the Belmont females, no matter how distant the relation."

"What in the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Sinopa's voice took on a cheery tone, as if teasing him. "Ask Sonia – no, wait she died over five hundred years ago. Hmm, ask Maria – no, wait, she died almost two hundred years ago… Perhaps you should just ask Alucard why he's so damn cold natured. Outliving all of one's lovers must be difficult on a man."

"Just stop," he told her with a frown. "I can't verify any such romances with those two ancestors – I have no desire to ask the man if he is the father of Sonia's offspring. That would make him my great, great…"

"Father of Trevor?" Sinopa placed her fingers on his lips. "No one knows for sure but it _would_ explain why he _helped_ Trevor a few years later, don't you think? They didn't invent a paternity test back then. Your blood is too far removed from the ancient blood of Alucard for an accurate test; it's impossible to check anyhow… putting Alucard's DNA in a genetics lab is forbidden by the supernatural community. Just know this: the Belmont Clan is akin to Hercules. They're only _half_ gods. Adrian is no different – he's half human."

"Adrian? Coincidentally, that was the name of Trevor's father – he received his mother's maiden name." Julius narrowed his gaze again. He couldn't help but ponder the possibility of Alucard's involvement in his family history. After a moment, the older man shook his head and told her, "You're distracting me. This isn't the time or the place for a trip down memory lane. We're not the millennial great-grandchildren of Dracula – we're his nemesis. Leave the irony and coincidence to the Florescu family. I'm a _Belmont_. We don't have a stain in our blood – perhaps Alucard was a lover to a Belmont female in the past but that doesn't mean they have children."

Crevan lowered her eyes. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, Julius. Perhaps we should change the subject then."

He glared at the kitsune and told her, "Perhaps you should remain quiet for a while. I have work to do."

"And the Belmont war has gone on longer than Dracula has been around – after all, much like Soma Cruz, Vlad Tepes was a _reincarnation_ of Mathias Cron-…"

"Enough." Julius lowered his right hand to hip level and made a horizontal gesture, as if asking for her to stop speaking.

"As you wish," she replied, adding, "_Darling._"

* * *

**Genya's hand brushed ****Yoko's shoulder.** She stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to him. "What?"

"I heard something." His deep, aloof voice reverberated off the decorated walls. He closed his eyes and canted his head to elevate his right ear. His chin lifted and his eyes shot open. "I hear fighting. Heel to me." In a brisk pace, the elegant gentleman made his way to the far end of the hall.

She scrunched her nose at his dog-like command but followed him. She watched Genya carefully. He placed his head against a wooden door and paused. She leaned in, besides him, and placed her own ear against the door. On the other side, she could hear the distinctive sound of intense combat. The sharp snap of a bone breaking, the sound of furniture being strewn about and the crash of a chandelier slamming into the floor.

Alucard placed the backside of his left hand against her shoulder then opened the door with his right. The door creaked ajar, allowing them both to peer into the large, dilapidated room. Both appeared fairly surprised to witness a werewolf at the center of the dusty hall.

Surrounded by hordes of skeleton monsters, demonic imps and other more grotesque beings, the lupine seemed to be handling his own very well. Yoko recognized him from earlier and whispered to the dhamphir adjacent to her. "That's Julius' nephew, Justus Bell. He's succumbed to the power of… well, it's pretty obvious."

"Interesting. Will he receive the Whip? Passing it on is important as I may be returning to my slumber by the end of the year."

Yoko cut a sidelong glance at Alucard then returned her gaze to the beast in the middle of the large, dismal room. "That all depends – do you think this kid would need a whip? Just look at him. He's a natural with those claws."

"The power of a werewolf was once used in an attempt to resurrect my father. I wouldn't want it to become an ingredient to provide anyone else with power, either. We should watch over this creature."

Yoko gawked then turned to Alucard, glaring at him. "He's not a creature! He's Julius' nephew and he's a nice boy! Furthermore," she said, drawing in a breath with which to continue her banter.

"That will be quite sufficient," retorted Alucard. He gestured her to back away then stepped into the room. He drew a sword from its sheath and swung it at the nearest demon. A blue aura surrounded the blade, which cut a swath through the monster's torso. The upper-half of its body slumped forward, spraying blood. He waved the sword from left to right, decapitating another, on approach to Justus at the center.

Meanwhile, Young Bell grew frustrated by the amount of attackers and the lack of progress made towards saving Molly Fields. He shredded the nearest skeleton, snatched a femur bone and swung it like a short club. It knocked the skull from another skeleton and shattered the jaw of some nearby hellspawn.

"Enough!" Alucard shouted. He reached into his blazer and drew out a crucifix. The skeletons dropped to the floor, leaving a pile on the dust tiles, while the other monsters evaporated in a flash of intense light. He sheathed the sword, his mother's family heirloom, then approached the werewolf. "Justus Bell I presume?"

"You presume correctly, Mister… _Arikado_, was it?" He recalled the man from the limo in the field outside of the castle then turned to the left so as not to pant in the man's face. "A cross, huh? How quaint."

"One needs faith to wield one with such results." The dark-haired man sifted his fingers back through his dyed locks then waved Yoko into the room. "This is my assistant; she recalls meeting with you earlier. Her name is Yoko Belnades."

"Right, thee, ah, 'seal cracker'." Justus offered her a nod but kept his gaze averted, so as not to rudely pant in their faces. He slumped to the floor to catch his breath then said, "We've got to find this girl named Molly. She brought this jewel into the castle and now _everyone_ is looking for it. Half the castle wants to give it to this dude they claim is the son of Dracula. They say they'll bring about Evil through that guy. The other half of these nut-jobs want to give it to that crazy bitch," he froze and cast a glance at Yoko. "Sorry – lady present; my apologies. They want to give it to that wacky lady who thinks she runs the castle. It's some sort of old stone that belonged to Dracula. He's somehow put some of his 'essence' into it, before he died. The recipient of this stone will help usher in a bunch of really bad sh… stuff." He looked over at Yoko again and offered an embarrassed smile. "I think I gave you the short and narrow of the situation, earlier. Anyhow, sorry about my language," he told her.

"Yes, this pertains to the 'Dracula's Anagram' riddle from the man in Moscow. I was telling Genya about his prophetic claims and you're just confirming it all to be true. As far as your language… apology accepted. Your mother raised you well," she told him with a pleasant smile. "Can you revert to your human form?"

"I don't know how," he said then turned to Alucard. "Uncle J. says, at the very least, you're trustworthy. Have you seen him? I want to know that he's all right."

Alucard narrowed his gaze. His cold eyes panned to Yoko, who quickly butted in to answer instead. "He was fine, the last time we saw him. He's disappeared right now and we don't know where he is, but the last time anyone saw him, he was off to complete some sort of task. No one knows of his whereabouts at the moment but I'm sure he's probably fine."

"Is all of this crap real?" asked Bell with a sharp sigh. He drew in one last deep breath then ceased his panting. He faced them both, swishing his tail off rhythm, behind himself. "Listen, I've seen insane stuff over the last day. I'm tired and it's getting late. I slept last night but not very well. I don't trust this old dump – so believe me when I tell you, I won't go nap in a corner. Now I'm seeing vampires all over the place, walking zombies and skeletons… and it feels pretty damn weird to rip those things apart. I've never _killed_ anything before."

"I don't pity you," Genya said. "If you can't adapt, you won't survive. We need to know that you're capable of acting in the face of danger, do you understand?"

Justus blinked. "I was tearing those things apart. I just need to know that I'm not hallucinating. I need to know that this isn't some crazy crap happening in my mind. I need to know that I'm not some crazy mental patient in a straight jacket, who has no idea what reality is, because I'm so involved in this delusional crap, here. Is it real?"

Yoko placed her palm on his forearm then immediately jerked it away, feeling awkward about the strange sensation of fur under her fingertips. It reminded her of when she sewed his wounds, earlier. "Even if this was in your mind, we'd be part of your mind, too. It would be like convincing yourself. But, the truth is, we're all alive and real. Dracula was a Prince in the fourteen hundreds, but he was also many other things."

"Many other things, like what?"

Alucard returned to the conversation. "He was a mortal prince in the middle ages to the rest of the world, but to us, he was a man who lived a thousand years ago. He was also a little boy named Malus, who roamed the hallways of Castlevania. He was a leader and a dictator. He was a Christian knight and a voivode. But, of all these things, he was truly the Dark Lord. However, he's dead. He's been reincarnated into someone with a good heart. He was a husband, a father and a fool; all of these things, all at once. We're not concerned with Dracula – we're concerned with people who are obsessed with Dracula. I suggest that you leave this girl and her stone to us. However, you seem capable of protecting yourself, so feel free to search out your Uncle."

Justus shook his head slowly. "I've got this feeling that Molly's stone is really important. So I'm going to look for that, first. You two are invited to come along, if you like."

"Very well. If you find it before we do, please destroy it." Genya folded his arms. "Turn it to dust then crush whatever is left. Just to be safe."

"Sounds fair enough," said the fuzzy teenager. "But I also want to find Molly."

Belnades cleared her throat. "Actually, I'm better equipped to find Julius." Yoko turned to Alucard and told him, "I can cast a spell to find him – we'll need his help against Bathory. We'll need his whip to…"

"Then it's settled." Alucard drew a corner of his cape into his fist and brought it to his shoulder. "Please find Julius, Miss Belnades." He turned his gaze to Justus. "Stay by my side but do as you're told. If you get in my way, you'll be putting us both in danger. Something tells me you already know more than you're letting on, so everything you see and hear from here on out must remain in Castlevania."

"What happens in Vegas _stays_ in Vegas," replied Justus.

Alucard narrowed his gaze then jerked his head towards an open door at the far end of the room. "Follow me, Mister Bell. Try to keep up." Then, to Yoko's surprise, Alucard shifted his shape into that of a dusky gray wolf with auburn highlights accenting his throat and belly. He broke into an immediate sprint and Justus hurried off in his direction.

Yoko shook her head with a frown. "Things must be serious if he's breaking his masquerade in front of the boy." She sighed then pulled out a spell book from her things. She ran her thumb over the faded name on the front. "_Charlotte Aulin,"_ she whispered, reading the name, followed by a Latin passage beneath. A metal clasp on the side began to glow for a moment then clicked, allowing Yoko to open the lock with her thumb. She held the ancient tome, one hundred years old, in her left palm and ran through the pages with her right index until she located the 'seeking spell'.

* * *

**The submachine gun clicked in protest.** Hammer mashed his thumb in on a metal button and the empty magazine ejected. It clattered across the tile floor. He canted his head back towards old man Johnson and asked, "Did that freaky thing startle you? Don't worry… it's toast." He nudged the lesser demon with his foot with no response from the bullet-riddled corpse. "Anyhow, if you ask me…"

A cry of anger and fear reverberated off of the walls. Johnson and Hammer glanced at one another then simultaneously shifted their attention towards a long, empty corridor. James Johnson licked his lips then asked, "_That_ startled me, too. But the weirdest thing is… it sounded human."

The ex-soldier lowered his FN-P90 after reloading it. He brandished the shotgun and cleared his throat. "I think Yoko said something about another guy being trapped here. He's a politician from a neighboring country or something. Can you speak this slop of a language, just in case we find him?"

"It's my theory that this castle provides its guests with the gift of tongues." James sighed from frustration and anxiety then said, "I've spoken to you in Romanian this whole evening so far and you've understood everything I've said. The werewolf boy said he only knows English and yet he spoke to me in Romanian as though he'd lived here his entire life."

Hammer furrowed his brows. "I'm speaking English right now and so are you."

James tilted his head. "You hear my words in English? That just proves my point, Sir. I've not spoken English in years – I've had no need to do so. Like I said, this castle breaks down the barriers of Babylon. At any rate, we understand one another."

"But I see your lips moving, man. You're speaking plain English."

The aging man placed his hands on his hips. "You don't believe me? That's perfectly fine, unless _you're_ the one lying. I've not heard you speak in English _yet_ and your lips are moving to form the Romanian language. Save for butchering it and referring to me as 'mister' every few minutes."

"Man, I always say _man_." Hammer shook his head and said, "There's no time for argument if someone is screaming down the hall. Let's go – stay close."

The shout came again, but this time they discerned distinctive and enunciated wording. "Help! Please!"

James pointed down the hallway, "You can't tell me you didn't hear _that_ in Romanian."

"English!" Hammer said, breaking into a sprint down the hallway. "C'mon, old timer!"

Johnson fell into a feeble gallop behind the younger, darker skinned merchant. He lifted his hands and placed them over his ears in anticipation of the shotgun going off indoors.

Hammer reached the end of the hallway and kicked the large wooden door. The hinges held tight but the framework cracked, sending the large mahogany object to the floor. Fueled by adrenaline, he lifted his Jackhammer and squeezed off two rounds. Several demons on the far left shrieked, pelted by buckshot and engulfed in flames. Two other demonic looking creatures turned towards the door, guarding their vampire master. Suspended by the neck, held aloft in the vampire's right hand was a human man. The vampire put him down and redirected its attention on Hammer, leaving the human man to scurry back into an open armoire where he'd been hiding until only a few moments ago.

The two remaining guardians rushed Hammer. He opened fire on the left one then struck the other in the face with the butt stock. It listed to the left, unable to retain its balance. The hell spawn careened into the floor and rolled over twice. It pounded its fist into the floor then scrambled to its feet and charged again. Hammer jammed the smoking barrel into the monster's chest to cool the barrel.

He head-butted the demon then pulled the trigger. Fire gushed from its back and engulfed the creature. The retired soldier placed his boot on the demon's chest and kicked it away before the blaze could cover the front of its body as well. He lifted the Jackhammer and quickly inspected the slightly misshaped barrel.

The vampire placed his hands together. "The heat is softening your metal toy gun," he mused. "I'm afraid it won't be much longer before it's rendered completely ineffective. But the display was quite entertaining, nevertheless. I must say, though… I'm impressed by your ability to successfully get four shots out of it, thus far."

"It's cast iron, son." Hammer replaced the weapon on his shoulder and brought the P90's laser sight to bear on the vampire's torso. The small red dot stopped over the creature's heart. "So will this thing work like a stake?"

"I'm afraid not," replied the bloodsucker.

"That's a shame," he replied and lifted the weapon. The red dot danced over the vampire's face and stopped between his eyes. "But you're going to move before I can pull the trigger – at least that's your plan. Then what? My bullet goes right through the closet behind you, so that I kill that dude. You're smart but don't pat yourself on the back just yet."

"You're perceptive, my good sir. I'm afraid that it's true: I am too fast for you to hit."

Hammer smirked. He squeezed a rubberized button on the laser sight toggle switch beneath the barrel. The red dot disappeared and the laser emitter shined brightly with a pulsing green glow. The vampire squinted in irritation and put his hands up, temporarily blinded and stunned by the visually disrupting green light.

The merchant didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger and put a bullet through the vampire's forehead. As soon as the creature toppled to the ground, writhing in agony, Hammer approached it and opened fire on its neck. It only took two rounds to decapitate the vampire. The body began a rapid decomposition, meanwhile hot steam poured from its nose, mouth and ears.

He kicked the head across the room, lowered his weapon and opened the armoire. "I'm John Hammer and I'm here to save your ass."

"You speak Turkish? Thank God!"

James stepped into the room and said, "See, Hammer? I told you so."

The Prime Minister turned to Johnson and added, "Ah, you _both_ speak Turkish… I'm grateful for your help, gentlemen."

"As I said," Johnson told Hammer. "You hear him and you understand him and _he_ thinks your speaking the Turkic standard – Subject, object, verb. He hears the words and sees your lips move and form his language. We're all speaking without babble and, despite the way _I_ speak, he hears no noun classes or grammatical gender. Which is most odd, since I speak a bastardized mixture of French and Romanian. I also speak German and English and know just enough Turkish to order lunch, ask for directions to the nearest bathroom and demand the correct amount of change when shorted at a register. So," James approached the middle aged man and nodded politely. "You, sir, must be the Prime Minister, which young Justus mentioned."

"Of whom do you speak?" asked the Turkish leader.

Hammer said, "Justus." He added, "Y'know… like 'The Justice System'."

The Turk tilted his head. "Justice? As in law?"

Hammer shook his head quickly. "It _sounds_ like 'Justice' but it's spelled different. _Justus_ is the kid's name."

James turned back to Hammer and sighed. "In English, Justus is a homonym for justice. However, in the Turkish Language, he heard you say '_It sounds like –the word for law when __served- but it's spelled different. Justus is the kid's name._' and therefore, we're confusing him. Indeed, Justus and justice sound alike in the English language. At any rate," he continued, turning back towards the prime minister. "Sir, we're in a magical citadel where the barriers of language do not exist. Mister Hammer speaks English. I'm speaking Romanian and you, sir, are speaking Turkish. And yet we all hear and comprehend one another. Let's take advantage of the situation and do our best to work together."

"Fair enough. I appreciate being rescued and would like to invite you both to a dinner in your honor."

Johnson raised a brow. "Will there be Sufi whirling dervishes? I appreciate your offer, sir but let's focus on escaping, first, Basbakan."

"Wait, what did you just call him?" Hammer tilted his head. "I thought I'm supposed to understand every word you speak or whatever?"

James shrugged. "While the word 'Basbakan' means 'Prime Minister', it's not a literal translation. It's the word used for his title, like 'prince', 'voivode', Lord, or even using 'sir' when speaking to a knighted man. Since the words are typically synonymous, either can be used. I'm calling him that out of respect, though. Let's not dawdle all day. I'll be honest, Mister Hammer… this place scares the hell out of me. Can you escort us back to the courtyard?"

The Prime Minister nodded in reply. "Yes, I need to return to Istanbul immediately."

Hammer face-faulted. "Uh, _that_ won't be happening… And it's probably thanks to your country, too. I might be wrong but I think Turkey tried to nuke us – the magic seal kept out the blast and the fallout but leaving would put you directly at risk. It's going to be a few days before we can leave and even then, we'll probably wind up with cancer in the future because of it."

The Turkish leader's eyes widened. "That is impossible. My executive order was to attack this castle but only _if_ they recovered my slain body. I'm most certainly _not_ dead, and they would only have attacked if my corpse was identified. I'm still here – they've not mounted a rescue mission."

"That's because no one is getting in _or_ out," said Hammer. "It's magically sealed – I just told you that, man."

James folded his arms, looking uncomfortable. "My only concern is, if your cell phone is able to get even a single bar of reception, how can say we're safe from the effects of radiation?"

Hammer shook his head then rolled his eyes. "I never said that. I said the shield has blocked the fallout. If its direct the flash or the air you're worried about, I'll sell you both some potassium iodide. I've got plenty enough if you guys have legit currency on hand."

* * *

A/N: _Heh, always the salesman, huh? Good ole' Hammer. So, yeah, I gave him a first name in this chapter… Ah well, no harm done, right? __So yeah, this chapter was a history lesson from every angle. Julius learned something from Sinopa, Alucard had some crap to offer __Justus and James provided a short lesson to Hammer. The name seemed appropriate. There will be a ton more action in the next chapter – Alucard and Justus are going to be at the center of skull cracking, Julius and Miss Crevan will team up and bash some heads (Although something tells me she might be fibbing about how the Belmont clan got their powers… But she does seem to know an awful lot about the family line). _

_A lot of you have probably noticed that I'm NOT going by Konomi's current listing of what IS and what IS NOT considered canon. They removed Sonia, Juste, Nathan Graves, Cornell and Ortega, and a ton of others. But that doesn't mean crap to me – I'm using it all:D_

_It's fanfiction about a VIDEO GAME SERIES. So what if I'm using information from all the games and combining it. Big deal! _

_I hope everyone is enjoying the story thusfar. Thanks for reading, gang!_

_-KIT_

_PS: I still have to finish SPY COOPER before I can really focus my attention on anything else again. I'm just updating because I know people are still reading this story and so I didn't want you guys to think I'd TOTALLY forgotten ya'! _


	13. Chapter 12: The Bewitching Hour

"_I touched that boy's soul. I saw his previous __**lives**__" – _Dmitrii Blinov, Dawn of Sorrow in regards to Soma Cruz.

"_Amnesia, now _that_ was hard. Thirty-seven years without an answer to your own identity or place in this world. Thirty-seven years without knowing your role in life or your true calling. That's thirty-seven years I should have been training my own replacement. Just the same, kid – old or young, this is my __**job**__." – _Julius Belmont… to his great nephew, Justus, during the horse-drawn buggy ride between Bucharest and central Wallachia, yesterday.

* * *

Chapter -**12**-  
"The Bewitching Hour"

**The timber wolf continued down the hallway at breakneck speed.** Justus kept time not far behind and dropped to all fours, galloping like a horse. He saw the smaller wolf come to a stop at the end of the corridor and gracefully rose to two feet, slowing to a jog. The werewolf returned to a biped stance and slowed until they were walking together.

Alucard resumed his previous form and drew back his cape, shoving it over his shoulder. It tugged at his broach, tumbled down his back and continued to his ankles. He turned to Justus and said, "This is a short cut between towers. There is a courtyard out front, but there's another one on the inside parameter. What has your uncle taught you, thus far?"

"What is there to teach?" Justus looked the man over.

The dhamphir's eyes followed the dusky amber hues and smirked. "Sizing me up? At any rate, I want Julius to teach you how to continue the Belmont line. I'm taking a break from this and do not wish to wake up to more drama."

"What if I don't _want_ to fight freaks and undead things, Mister _Arikado_? Don't give me the whole, '_with great power comes great responsibility_' line, either, because I never asked to become a walking, talking dog."

"You're a _wolf_. Take pride in your heritage. Your blood lineage is strong and proud, even if they were quiet and stifled as of these last few decades." He narrowed his eyes for a moment then said, "Genya Arikado is going to be 'dying' soon. I do not wish for my business to be aired like dirty laundry, boy. I'm sure some part of you already knows I'm not some…"

Justus lifted a paw and said, "Yeah, you're the son of Dracula or whatever. Big damn deal. Can we just find this girl, my uncle and her stupid rock so we can go the hell home? I have a life and you have a bed or a coffin or _whatever_. I appreciate you taking a minute to talk – that shows you're a swell guy but we're just procrastinating." He turned to the door, wrapped his large paw around the handle and pulled it open.

Small clouds dotted the sky, racing by in the jet stream. The full moon illuminated the forested-looking landscape, peering through the branches so that the cobblestone path incandesced. With the small rapidly panning clouds, the rich luna beam flickered and dimmed every few seconds, making the landscape feel almost alive. Justus reveled in the sensation of moonlight, dancing on his fur. "Sorry, I'm just under a lot of stress."

Alucard remained stoic for a moment longer then said, "You're quite perceptive. Fair enough… we will hurry. However, stress or not – I cannot babysit you if you're distressed from fighting the undead simply because you're still in shock."

"That's not it," said Justus, stepping through the doorway and onto the elevated cobblestone path. "I _just_ found out I'm half animal tonight. I just found out that my father didn't die in a simple auto accident while on business. In fact, he was _killed_. His death has something to do with this damn castle. Not only that, I was shot and lost a lot of blood so I feel like '_ass_'. I usually don't complain about anything but right now I'm going through some stuff. I'm not in shock about killing; I'm a little _put off_ by the fact it's coming so _easy_ for me to kill these freakish things."

The dhamphir shifted on his heel, stepped through the door and offered a sidelong glance to Justus. "That's normal, boy. I would worry _more_ if you felt pleasure or nothing at all when using your claws. It proves to me that you have a sense of compassion and humanity. Let us continue." A slight gale captured Adrian Tepes' silver strands of hair, causing them to dance like a ballerina to a note of song. The wind caught and toyed with his cape so that it billowed out behind him. He cast a glare over his shoulder then said, "Try to keep up; we need to make good time," and broke into a sprint. Several steps out, his body morphed back into that of a four-legged timber wolf, running at full stride.

Justus hurried after the half-man, across the walkway, to the next tower. At the end, Alucard waited for him to come and open the door then they both hurried through. They took the stairs with haste until coming to another door. Justus opened it and the animalistic dhamphir hurried through. Down the hallway and into the next large chamber, the werewolf followed Alucard through the castle. Approaching the end of the quiet vestibule, the timber wolf slowed to a halt.

The calm, aloof voice of Alucardreverberated off the walls. "This is as far as we go without incident." The small four-legged wolf canted its head, glaring back at Justus. The dhamphir's furry wolfen ears lowered and his whiskers eased back along his muzzle. He began to glow and, seconds later, morphed into a human form. He stood adjacent to the werewolf, wearing a fantastic coat with golden buttons. He had black leather boots, straight out of the middle ages and a dazzling black cape with red velvet interior. He turned to Justus and said, "Be ready to fight for your life. We must complete Julius' mission for _two_ reasons. One, if Julius is alive and well, he would have to come this way and we'll discover his true fate. Two, if Julius is injured or worse, we must complete his job ourselves."

"Let's just get this done so I can find him. I have a lot of questions for him and my mother would have a stroke if he was killed." Justus Bell placed a paw on his old injury, repaired earlier by Yoko. The sealed gunshot wound ached but the fur around the wound was still clumped together. The dried blood matted the fur down on his hip but flaked away the more he played with the wounded area.

"Put your guard up," said Alucard. "I understand you must be tired; however I require your attention. It's true, outside the castle there is now sunlight. This means that some of the enemies are weaker now, although I still require your focus and attention, Justus."

"How the hell does one rest in this castle? Between taking a bullet and fighting for my life, I'm pretty damn worn out." Bell ran his furry fingertips up through his head-fur and sighed. "I've not eaten since yesterday morning, before we went to Poenari. I guess you don't eat or sleep but damn, man."

Alucard turned to the large two-legged wolf and leered at him for a moment. After a short time, he offered a simple nod. The gesture, curt and wordless, was followed by a canting of the head. Justus fell into step behind him until they came to an elegantly carved door. The dhamphir genuflected first before opening the door then held it open. Justus passed through.

On the inside, Justus found himself in an achingly beautiful cathedral. A statue of the Virgin Mary stood at one end, hands together in prayer. Six pews lined the walls with an alter and a fountain at the front. Bell looked around and cleared his throat. "A safe room?"

"There is a hearth in the back room. Yes, it's safe and it is blessed – nothing will attack you here; believe it or not, my father, before his transformation, was a Christian leader of the state. Start a fire in the hearth and … do you know how to cook? Perhaps you can find a rabbit or other small animal around here.

"What about you?"

"I'll scout the area and return in twelve hours. I expect for you to have eaten and slept by the time I return. Things will grow harder when we set out again; the sun, outside of the castle's shell of ebony, will be setting by then. There is water and wine in the chest – both of which are good; consumable. Please refrain from leaving this area until I return. Sleep well, Justus." Alucard backed out of the room and shut the door behind himself.

* * *

Rome, Italy, Sunday morning – 06:45am (1 hour behind Bucharest, Romania)

**Soma Cruz, age twenty-seven, sat up in bed**, his eyes wide and his platinum bangs stuck to his forehead. Drenched in sweat, he blinked his stormy-blue eyes several times in an attempt to get his bearings. He canted his head over at Mina, sleeping peacefully on the futon. A wireless video game controller sat beside her knee, with the low battery indicator blinking. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the slatted blinds. He lifted his palm to his forehead and pushed his hair from his face then yawned.

Cruz moved out of the living room and into the kitchen. He flipped the switch to a small television set and opened the fridge, casually poking about to find something edible. Behind him, the flat panel screen bathed the kitchen in soft illumination, thereafter trumped by the brightness of the icebox light. A news anchor's voice, speaking Italian, said, "…The nuclear blast in Romania last night. Scientists have yet to take a sample of the Transylvanian soil; it is unclear if the castle sustained _any_ damage by the blast. It appears intact with a barely visible shell surrounding the structure. Romania has appealed for NATO support, calling for help from ally nations. A declared state of emergency is in place and most flights have been grounded in the area. Romania put troops in place along the border, demanding that Turkey back down from further attacks. The Sultan of Istanbul has not yet released a statement; the Turkish Prime Minister is still missing, presumed dead. In other news, the United States' Republican candidate and Democratic candidate for presidency have both called the Turkish attack despicable and an unnecessary act of violence. The tight race between the two American presidential hopefuls has been all but forgotten – the Democratic national convention, set for next Wednesday, has been canceled out of respect and will remain so until further notice."

Soma's eyes widened. He turned around, glaring at the flat screen in disbelief. A blurry helicopter camera showed a castle in a field. He recognized it instantly. "…My dream!" he exclaimed in shock, hurrying to a nearby phone. He picked up the handset and dialed a phone number, fumbling at first to get the country-code, let alone the number itself, from his thumb. His hands shook from the adrenaline.

Seconds later, a voice came from the receiver. "You've reached Hammer. If you're trying to make a purchase, you can check out my website, else just press _two_ and leave a message. Personal callers just wait for the beep. Thanks." A chime followed the recording.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me." Soma drew in a deep breath then said, "Hammer, you'd _better_ call me back as soon as you get this. I dreamt you were in the middle of a crisis; I turn on the TV and see the whole thing on screen, just the way I saw it last night. The ending was so bad that I woke up without finishing the dream. Look, if you _are_ there… do me a favor. Tell Yoko to protect her friend, Arikado. In fact, if you _are_ in the middle of that mess, make sure that guy is _not_ on scene. If he is, tell him to get out of there right away." He ended the call and sighed with frustration.

"Soma?" Mina's voice, docile and soft but luminescent and vibrant, was a palliative balm on him. He turned from the small television in the kitchen and frowned, eyes dropping to the floor.

"It's starting again."

"But… I thought it was only every one hundred years; let alone over?"

Soma shook his head with a frown. "It is. From what I've learned, the incidence in 1999 was premature – everything started up again in 1476, hit the fan once more in 1576, then went sour once more in the 1690's, got out of sorts again in the 1790's… then in 1897, he rose again. Finally, in 1999, it was supposedly done. But consistently, there were half periods… 50 year marks, plus or minus a few years. In 1844, they began doing a ritual to raise Dracula using the blood of a werewolf. In 1944, the fighting of the Second World War helped bring him back… it's now one hundred years since then – two hundred years since the bit with the werewolf ritual. About three hundred years since Simon Belmont's kid – or grandkid, rather – Juste I think… had a run-in with Dracula."

"But he _can't_ come back. _You're_ Dracula and you're here. You're _not_ going there – so you can't get involved. Why are you worried?"

His eyes lifted slowly, as if drinking in her form an inch at a time. "Mina… in my dream I had last night… I gave my 'son' an evil power and turned him into an abomination. I don't have any kids; if I was Dracula in another life then it's my belief that the dream is a metaphor. I think that Dracula's power is somehow going to wind up in the hands of his son. I don't have Dracula's blood and I'm not related to this 'Arikado' guy… but I have his soul and there's still a bond."

"Have you done your daily meditation yet? Almost everything you've learned about your past lives came from that – perhaps you can meditate on an _answer_."

He shook his head slowly. "I've learned a lot from my sessions," he admitted. "I've learned that I was once named Mathias, among other names, and was eventually reborn as Vlad in the 1400's, then I recovered a magic stone from my own past life and turned evil… but this stone still exists. If it winds up in _my_ hands, I could become the same person that Mathias and Vlad became. Worse yet, if it winds up in the hands of Alucard…"

"Hush," said Mina. She approached Soma, placing her fingers on his lips. "Honestly, whether or not Mister Arikado really is Dracula's son is still up to debate. Furthermore, he can handle himself. He supposedly has fought against his father many times since the mid-to-late 1700's, right? Don't you think, in several hundred years, if he's still around it's because he's able to take care of himself?"

"This dream was _very_ real, Mina!" Soma took a deep breath again, frowned and said, "I didn't mean to holler at you; I'm sorry." He reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb along the promissory ring she now wore. "Look, you're right… I won't go there but… I'm really worried for Hammer and Yoko." He nodded towards the television and told her, "They're saying a nuclear bomb hit that castle, Mina."

Her eyes widened and she stepped the rest of the way into the kitchen to see the TV. After a moment, she glanced back over her shoulder at her boyfriend and frowned. "I'm sure Mister Arikado is there. And if _he_ is there, you know that Mister J. is there."

Soma placed a hand on her shoulder then let it slide down her arm, standing behind her. "I'm pretty sure Julius Belmont is there. He was in the dream. …I wonder if I could crack the castle's seal. Yoko showed me how to do it almost ten years ago; I think I still remember."

"No!" Mina turned to Soma, placed her hands on her hips and glared. "Nuclear _blast_, Soma… There's fallout and you would get very sick. You're not going. That's final. …Please?"

"You're right," he said, drawing her into his arms. "You're right; I won't go since I'm probably not needed there. I …promise."

* * *

Meanwhile…

**A smirk tugged at the corner of Julius' mouth**. He cut his gaze over to Sinopa Crevan, the kitsune fox at his side. His eyes returned to the statues along the wall. Drolta Tzuentes with a plaque reading, _Dorottya Szentes_ beneath it, stood adjacent to Graham Jones and Celia Fortner. Julius folded his arms and, in a gruff voice, announced, "This must be the losing team's trophy case. Every idiot who ever lost their life fighting against the good guys apparently has a statue here." He continued passed Dmitrii Blinov, Dario Bossi and Gilles de Rais. Besides another statue, one of a female named Actrise, was the dark priest, Shaft. Julius glared at the stone man then turned to Sinopa. "This one was quite the trouble." He moved down the line in front of one simply named, 'Zead.'

"Not really a person is he?" she mused, nodding to the next statue over, "At least not like this one". A man named Barlowe in velvety green nobleman's robes held a book in his right hand. The book, unlike the statue or the clothing, was real. "You don't know much about this one, but he's a regular Benedict Arnold. Needless to say, we should continue on our way. I wish to retrieve my diamond lest it fall into the hands of _anyone_ here."

"Fair enough," said Julius with a slow nod. "So, the founder of the Order of Ecclesia is a traitor?"

"And such a stupid name for an order," mumbled the kitsune vixen. "An ecclesia is a word meaning 'summoned gathering,' used in Athens when a public interest matter was at hand. It's as though…" She suddenly drew silent from the swiping motion offered by Julius. She cocked a single eyebrow and asked, "Must you _really_ make that motion?"

"I require less banter, Miss Crevan," said Julius, adding, "I heard something up ahead. I would much rather fight it then let it ambush us. If you can fight then follow me."

The two of them moved into a room with a high overhead clearance, several stories above their heads. Four pillars reached to the lofty ceiling. In the rafters, there were several feminine-looking creatures with wings. Their talons glistened, catching Julius' eye. He snapped one of his whips to gain their attention. Five monsters in all, they took note of Julius and his company then, one by one, dove at him with their claws extended.

The aging Belmont leapt from his position, fist extended, catching one of them in the torso. One of the diving entities shifted their wings, swooping directly beneath him. He lifted his arms and angled his foot so that his heel was the first part to strike the second creature from above. He gracefully somersaulted from the second being and unfurled his whip at a third.

In his free hand, the hunter cast a cross-shaped boomerang towards the first monster, knocking all three to the floor. The remaining two turned and headed for Sinopa. The kitsune furrowed her brows slightly then lifted a hand. Both attacking enemies fell to the floor at a lethal velocity, immediately writhing in agony.

The three injured monsters surrounding Julius sat up, watching in horror as their two comrades screamed at the feet of the kitsune. Both harpies, looking up at Sinopa Crevan, appeared in immense physical pain. Their feathers burst into flames and their flesh bubbled up. Just as quickly as their wings combusted, so too did their flesh, leaving two pillars of fire on either side of the mystical creature. She cut her gaze towards the remaining three and folded her arms. "You're next," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

They scrambled from the floor, flapping their wings in an attempt to get away from the duet. Taking to the rafters, all three disappeared in a moment's notice. Sinopa approached Julius and frowned. "I didn't mean to make that into some sort of dramatic production – I have more pressing matters to attend; fighting consumes time and energy. Speaking of energy, when have you rested?"

"I've been at this all night," said Julius, adding, "It's quite obvious what elemental clan you represent. I'd forgotten that the kitsune are creatures of a given element. Impressive display of power but more than half got away."

"I'm one with fire. It was of no concern whether or not those things lived or died. I'm not here to clean up low-life scum." She fluffed her tails and touched up her bangs. "I require my diamond. You should rest or you'll be useless to me."

"I thought time was of the essence," said Julius.

Sinopa nodded somewhat in reply. "Quite so; you know as well as I do that if someone else finds it for us... that will make our job easier. I don't care what the finder uses it for. I have no problem taking back what belongs to me. Should a vampire retrieve it, they'll gladly hand it over to me. You see, vampires don't like the sun and, equally, their bodies do _not_ agree with fire. The finder's identity does not concern me, they'll hand it over or parish. I have no problem retrieving my belongings from their ashes and would have no compunction in regards to making them combust."

Belmont eyed her for a moment. "So you're telling me that if we rest, we're not being counterproductive?"

"Rest is hardly such," she mused. "When you awake, I would be willing to wager that someone will have found it. Then, we go after the public target and our job is done. It's not as though this diamond can leave the castle grounds at this time – it's just as confined as the rest of you."

"How did you come across it to begin with? From what I understand, it initially belonged to Dracula."

"He was dead and I came to possess it. I was attending to the repairs of an Inari shrine, helping a human to insure it was done properly. I placed the diamond in the spirit world so as to keep it safe. Somehow, one of the people attempting to resurrect Dracula had the ability to reach into the umbra and track down the diamond. It teleported and was used to revive him. When you 'vanquished' him in 1999, as I knew you would, I retrieved it from his ashes. Then, twenty-nine years later, another bumpkin, Celia Fortner, was at an Inari shrine in New York City. She reached into the umbra while on location and stole my diamond by reaching into the spirit world. That fool cleverly pick-pocketed me and disappeared from the realm. When I finally tracked her down, she was already dead and the diamond was in the possession of another. I tracked it back to Romania as of _this_ year. It's not going anywhere, now. Get some rest – we both need such."

"Indeed," he returned, offering a nod. "Where do you suggest that we sleep?"

"I can set up a protective barrier, Julius," she told him, adding, "So you may sleep anywhere you desire. Guest bedroom or Elysium cathedral; it's up to you. My barrier will keep out the negative forces of Hecaitomix."

"I have _no idea _who that is. All right, so you have a barrier to protect against negative forces or otherwise evil presences… Fair enough." The hunter nodded then coiled his whip, attaching it back to his belt. "I wanted to fight at this hour because the enemies would be weaker but that doesn't appear to be a problem for you, one way _or_ the other. Since I apparently have your aid in this task and, regardless the importance of activating the castle teleportation pads, I _am _tired. I suppose a short nap is in order."

* * *

20:10 (8:10pm), Sunday, July 24th 2044.

**Justus sat up and rubbed at his eyes.** He immediately noted the feeling of flesh against flesh and looked down at his human hands. His head tilted forward, noting that his clothes were baggy and he wore no shoes. "This could be a problem…" He checked himself for his gun; did he lose it in the sea monster's chamber? Justus shook his head, recalling that he'd used it as recently as the clock tower. However, the Taurus was missing and he felt defenseless without it.

"Looking for something?" asked a gruff voice. Bell recognized Ortega's voice and opted not to reply. Ortega, on the other hand, continued to speak. "You dropped it at some point after splitting off with Alucard. I think you already know that guy is Dracula's son – it's pretty freakin' obvious. Oh, didn't he say something about coming back? Why didn't he, I wonder?"

"I didn't realize the dead could be so melodramatic," said the boy. "Could you do me a favor and, at the very least, tell me something helpful or important? I mean, seriously… Ortega right? You want me to go and get you a body beneath a castle filled with goons – whatever; if I'm going to do a favor for you, you've got to return the favor, pal."

"How is it your personality is fiery when you're without your claws? It makes no difference, though. You have the ability to change back if you will your body to do it. You don't need the pea-shooter pistol."

"Don't I?" He rubbed his face with his palms and turned to the statue of Mary. "Where can I find some food, Ortega?"

"He didn't tell you?" The ghostly man-beast chortled and pointed at a door to the far left, up near the tabernacle. "This safe room is adjacent to the secondary dining hall. It's nowhere near as grand as the main banquet hall but… well, see for yourself. Just, do yourself a favor, boy… Stay sharp – things are going to get harder from here on out. Don't forget my body – if you can float the coffin out through the aqueduct, it'll float out to Princess River, out of the castle and into the Argus Valley. That's right; it'll show up in the real world over in Poenari. Then the curse is broken and my spirit can rest. But if you can't do it, I won't hold it against you – anyhow, return to this room or others like it, any time you need a short rest. The monsters of this castle can't come within Mary's sight," he explained, up-nodding to the statue.

"Fair enough." Justus passed the statue and approached the alter stage. His eyes stopped on a group of candles. Out of a large number, only a dozen were lit. He picked up a small wooden stick in front of the candles and lit it from an open flame then transferred the fire to an unlit wick. "…Get me through this, or at the very least… give me the strength to get these people out safely." Justus waved the small stick until the tip was extinguished then he placed it back on the sill in front of the other candles. He frowned and walked to the door, opened it then gasped in surprise.

The secondary dining hall was set with an unimaginable feast. Plates and wine cups lined every three feet of the extravagant forty-foot-long tables. Illuminated candles and gold-wrought chandeliers cast their dazzling glow throughout the area, making the walls and floor feel alive. The scent of chicken, turkey, ham and fresh bread hit him immediately. Steak, potatoes, various vegetables, fresh fruit and cups of soup broth lined the center of the lengthy tables. Shiny golden ladles, glistening silverware, and beautiful ornate goblets lined each edge of the long tables. It was enough to feed an army save that no one was present.

"No one can say that Dracula wasn't a man of hospitality in regards to his esteemed guests, boy. Eat hearty – you'll need it. It's nightfall and, so, you'll find this dinner to be far more hearty than any breakfast food. I hope you slept well; you won't be seeing Alucard or whatever it is that he's calling himself at the moment. However, I know your appetite will return when I tell you that your uncle, Julius, is alive and well. I saw him wondering the halls earlier; he took to a guest room to rest but disappeared behind a magic spell that keeps out inhuman creatures. Bon apatite, boy – isn't that what they say where you're from?"

"You're thinking of France," said Justus with a shrug. "Thanks; I'm glad he's okay. I'll keep my eyes open for Mister Arikado but I won't hold my breath, either. How do I change back into a werewolf?"

"Will your body to change – it takes a little practice but it's an instinct and you'll be quick to learn if you want to survive. For now, though, you should eat hearty. A man needs to eat a proper meal in order to survive another night in Dracula's castle, aye? Get to it, boy." Ortega vanished. It was then that Justus noticed soft music emanating at the far end of the dining hall. As he walked the aisle between two large tables, he noticed a group of instruments by the facing wall. They floated in mid air, playing themselves without musicians, ghostly or otherwise. A harpsichord and a piano joined in, a cello and two violas kept the melody going while a loan violin carried a solo, giving the tune a lively feel. It was professional quality music and lightened the mood of the empty room. Justus turned back to the tables lined with food and sat down, alone.

As if on cue, he could suddenly see hundreds of soldiers all around him. They lacked their armored plating and wore their greaves, cotton shirts and leather boots. Many men had their hair tied back, some capes – the hoods were drawn back, bunched at the nape of their necks. The ambient sound of conversation filled the room, not a single one sticking out in particular. "Pass the salt, m'boy," said someone.

Justus blinked then reached for a crystal shaker with a silver top. He passed it to an open hand, vaguely transparent. The ghostly man took the shaker from Bell's grasp and nodded politely, offering a smile of appreciation. The clatter of silverware against ceramic plates filled the hall, making it feel that much _more_ alive than before.

"You haven't tried the penne? With chicken and broccoli," said one man to another.

"Actually, I've come quite attached to Lord Tepes' Caviar," came the reply.

The second man chuckled with a smile and said, "Sturgeon doesn't fill a man! Eat hearty! Look here, the roast beef is beyond belief! The wine is aged well but there is enough mead to drown a fish for sure!"

"There are dessert plates by the door, Thaddeus; where does Vlad's generosity or wallet end? It never ceases to amaze me, my friend! Perhaps people were wrong about Dracula Tepes – he's a fine Christian!"

"Aye, agreed!"

Justus turned to his plate and decided to try the meaty dish – it was exquisite. The ravenous boy found himself gorging on the plentiful food as though it was his first and last meal.

* * *

**"Get up, Julius**." Sinopa's creamy voice was smoother than any morning radio talk show host. She sat down adjacent to him and said, "The diamond has been located – I can sense that it is in motion. Let us hope that your friend with the long, dyed hair isn't the one by whom it is possessed."

Julius Belmont sat up on the mattress of the guest bed and arched his back until a rather sharp popping sound filled the area. Sinopa Crevan's delicately triangular fox ears flickered. She placed her palms upon either side of his face and smiled. "I'm afraid this castle does not have modern plumbing with which to groom yourself."

"I don't have time, anyhow," he murmured, drawing his shirt from a nearby bedpost. "I shouldn't have slept, either …but," he drew off into silence, putting his shirt on over a wife beater. Having left his duffle in the guest room yesterday, he had clean clothing. He buttoned his shirt and fluffed an ascot then ran his fingers back through his hair. "I appreciate you giving me the chance – I focus better when I'm rested."

"Everyone does," she replied with a nod. "What is the point of your outlandish fashion-sense, Julius? Even my line know a bit in regards to style, boy."

"I'm _hardly_ a 'boy'," he returned, adding, "It hides the metal collar I wear – neck armor. …Just in case."

"Just in case," she repeated with a nod. "By hiding it, a vampire attacker wont' go for your shoulder or arm… they'll instinctively go for your neck, yes?"

"…And when they do," Julius continued, "It'll break their fangs and give me time to react." She lowered her palms from his face. His cheeks felt oddly warm; he lifted his hands, running his fingertips over the overly smooth flesh on either side of his mouth. "I should have at least three days worth of stubble – what did you do?"

"You're far more attractive when you're groomed," she mused with a smile. "I burned away your whiskers without burning your face. And, you _are_ a boy compared to _my_ age. I wouldn't want to rob the cradle but I must admit… you're attractive, dear Belmont."

"That's quite enough," he replied, pushing off the covers. Clad in boxer-style briefs, the hunter went for his pants, folded on a nearby chair. His eyes flitted to the sight of his boots on the floor. "You _polished_ my…?" He glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowed. "Why? Aren't menial tasks beneath you?"

"Cleanliness is next to godliness, Julius. Cleanliness is beneath no one. I'm a messenger of Inari, not an all-powerful, omnipotent being. At least not until I have _nine_ tails – that's quite some time from now I assure you." Then, quite suddenly, she changed topic. "Nice legs, love."

"…Thanks," he muttered, picking up his pants from the chair. "I'm barely a step above an average human man – why would someone like yourself feel attracted towards a human being?"

Sinopa tilted her head. "Humans are above the Kitsune on the chain of life, regardless of our powers, abilities, immortality and racial perfection. Your spirits, your willpower, your souls… make you incredible beings. Many Kitsune have taken a human lover as their spouse. No matter, though – we can speak of such things at another time; get dressed so we can return to business." She turned away, fluffed her bangs in a nearby mirror with her eyes on the reflection of his body. "And I've found you attractive every since you were in your late thirties."

Belmont pulled the left leg of his pants up passed his knees then glanced over his shoulder at her again. "You've been watching me that long? I didn't have my memories back then – why couldn't you just come up and help me figure out who I was? Was I amusing you, vixen?"

"Calm down, Julius." She continued to face the mirror. "Just because I've taken a fancy to you for two and a half decades doesn't mean I was allowed to interact with you at the time. Believe me; I had every intention of drawing you into the search for my diamond as a _reason_ to interact with you. Why? So I could amuse myself by flirting with you. Why else? I plan to take things further than flirting all in good time. Experience, intellect and a judicious, wise lifestyle make a Kitsune. I've pondered the experiences that only motherhood could conceivably provide. But we can worry upon such notions at a future time, Julius. Business before pleasure. As much as I enjoy watching your perfectly sculpted arse, I prefer you to hasten your preparation so we can return to business."

"Hmph." He drew his pants the rest of the way up his first leg then up his second and secured his pants. Julius filled his pockets and lined his belt with gear then he returned to the bed and took both whips from the nightstand, hooking them to a clamp on his hips. He laced his boots and tied his hair back. "We'll just see about your whole outlook on becoming the wife of a Belmont. I've not sought a mate after sixty years, I doubt I will at this point."

"You have the vitality and health of a human man half your age. I'm sure you'll provide a solid twenty-one years of enjoyable mating, parenting and…"

"Enough," he snapped with a smirk. "As you said, let's get down to business. So, you can sense the diamond is moving. Where?"

The anthropomorphic vixen scrunched her nose. "Movement is another form of energy on a simple level. I sense it is surrounded by the energy of motion – I cannot yet pinpoint its location or I would have had it ages ago."

"Touché." Julius, ready for combat, crossed the room and opened the door. A light blue aura filled the doorway; beyond, a legion of zombie corpses stood in the hall from one end to the other. "I see your spell kept them out of the _guest room_…"

She offered a smirk. "Touché."

* * *

**"Touch the diamond, Adrian,"** said a woman. Alucard tightened his jaw and stopped. He turned about with his eyes narrowed, glaring at Elizabeth Bathory, also known as Vampira. She continued in a chiding tone. "If you won't, I will. Make a decision… although I already know what your choice will be – you won't touch it."

"This?" Alucard lifted the stone, wrapped in several bandannas. The glittering blue tip peaked out from the top of the cloth bundle. "If you want it, come and get it. Else I plan on launching it into the sun; feel free to retrieve it from that location as well, Beth."

She closed her hands into fists. "I despise that nickname, errant childe. You're an abomination, half-ling. Give me the stone and go back to sleep, fool."

"Temper, temper, hag. You know that I could rip you into parts without much effort; I suggest _you_ return to torpor, lest you wish to experience what existence is like in a small urn."

"As if you still wield that power – I doubt it would be quite so easy."

"Ashes to ashes," he mused, adding, "Dust to dust. As the cabalist used to say, back in the old Jewish Quarter," he continued, referring to the town that once surrounded his father's castle, "It's time to return to Abraham's bosom, like all things good or evil."

"Give me that stone, bumpkin!" She disappeared from his sight. Alucard reached his free hand out; his knuckles met her face in the midst of her blind dash for the diamond. She reappeared at arm's length, toppling back but recovered quickly.

Without warning, the castle shook in an unexpected manner. Both of them crashed to the floor. The large stone wall came crashing down and, in its wake stood a stone Golem. It swung its arms outwards, leveling the wooden beams that held the remainder of the wall intact so that part of the roof cracked open. A warm moonlit glow filled the room.

The diamond raced across the floor, free of its cotton prison. Bathory reached for it, using her other hand to push away Alucard. He, in unison, shoved her back; both of them touched the stone at the same time – the linier temporal movement came to a halt, the clock on the wall stopped and the Golem froze in its tracks.

They froze, looked to one another and blinked. In that instant, both became considerably self aware. Alucard sat up, his right hand still on the diamond. A brilliant rush of foreign memories rushed through his mind. He saw the fruit, plucked from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Inside the delicious ripe fruit was a large seed. The beautiful, glassy blue seed of that fruit – once a carrier of Original Sin before such was transferred to man after consumption – was quite simply a large blue diamond. Adrian Tepes and Elizabeth Bathory looked at one another in wonder the way Adam and Eve looked at one another the first time they shared in the fruit's delicious taste.

Time exploded forward, beginning first with the noisy tick of a second hand from the clock on a stone wall, opposite from the Golem. Next, it stepped forward into the room then looked down at them. Its eyes widened, watching the two with the diamond. Almost immediately, the stone monster backed away as if in fear…

* * *

A/N: _Dun dun DUNNNN. Okay, so, I wrote this chapter because I actually got a reader send me a review, tugging on my sleeve, asking me to update the story! SO I DID! :-D_

_See? I don't mind doing such! Next time, though, leave a way to contact you and I'll THANK you for reviewing! I appreciate it, y'know? Wee!_

_-Me_

Asdlkfj;alskdjfa;kdsljf


	14. Chapter 13: Willpower

A/N: _Is it me or did I write the last few chapters like I'm writing a game? I gave the character's save rooms, a shop keeper with inventory items, and I even had Justus Bell 'get better' at fighting after shredding enemies with his claws… like raising his level after a few experience points from killing baddies. It really feels like I have; especially with Justus in the sanctuary for a night of sleep. It's loosely based off of a safe room used to save one's game. Heh… Okay, now let's learn more about the werewolf transformation and Alucard's situation… also, let's explore Julius Belmont's situation and his new ally. And, of course, after the cliffhanger I made in regards to Alucard... it's time to explore how he's going to react, eh? MUWAHAHA. Ahem. _

* * *

Chapter -**13**-  
_Willpower_

**Well rested and well fed, **Justus Bell left the dining hall, wearing baggy clothing and lacking any weapons. He remained careful to avoid hallways with freakish beings. Animated skeletons, devilish imps and other beings roamed throughout the castle. Navigating the halls without a weapon quickly turned into an arduous task.

He tried various doors to see if there were freaks and monsters on the other side. One of them led into a large foyer and a massive set of double doors on the left. The sound of talking came from the right. A man's voice said, "…And that's why we need to leave this cesspool abomination!"

Another man's voice replied, "Not yet, man! Don't worry, though… I've got enough firepower to keep us safe until this whole thing blows over. The problem is, guys, there is a lethal dose of radioactive fallout on the other side of the castle walls; we're stuck here for a while."

"How long?" asked a third voice, one that Justus recognized. The third man was the old guy he met after coming through the main gates, yesterday. The man continued speaking. "I'm not rightly familiar with the properties of fallout. Or things that are radioactive, for that matter – How long are we stuck here?"

"Depending on the power of the bomb," explained the second man, "It could take three to five days before things become safe enough to leave… and then it's still dangerous. I'm not trying to have cancer, my body hair fall out or get welts all over my skin. I'm not trying to have my organs turn to mush or my… well, I'm not trying to gross you out but, man, it's not cool."

The first man, the Turkish Prime Minister, stepped into the foyer first, his hands outstretched. "No, we wouldn't simply detonate a multi-megaton nuclear warhead on this castle – if anything, it was the lowest-possible yield just to faze this castle or verify its reaction to the blast. Yes, Mister Hammer, you certainly know your weapons; approximately three to five days before the worst is over. I…" He froze and turned to face Justus on his left.

James Johnson stepped into the large room next, directing his gaze to follow the Minister's look of disbelief. His facial features lit up. "Justus Bell! You're alive!" His eyes immediately lowered just as Hammer followed them into the room. Johnson frowned in shame. "I'm sorry I ran away from you – I've never seen such a transformation before and I was overtaken by fear. I'm sorry, young man."

"Hey," said Hammer with a nod.

Justus offered an up-nod and said, "Hey," in reply to Hammer then, "Mister J., it really is fine. Really, sir. You have nothing to apologize for and I don't hold it against you." Finally, he cut his eyes over to the leader of Turkey and nodded forward slowly, as if slightly bowing in a sign of respect. "None of us want to be stuck here for a week – perhaps if we find everyone who is on our side, we can put our heads together and figure out a way to return home safely."

"You're Julius' great nephew?" asked Hammer. "Aren't you supposed to be some sort of monster thing?"

"A werewolf," said the youth with a sigh. "Yes. I am. I changed back and I'm looking for my uncle."

"So is Yoko." The ex-soldier nodded towards the nearby door. "That leads out to the courtyard. My shop is in the horse stable – do you need any supplies, bud? I'll give you a good deal."

"Show me what you've got," Justus replied.

* * *

**With a grunt,** Julius continued to thrash at the demonic lackeys piled up at the magic barrier wall. Sinopa Crevan sat on an empty pedestal meant for a coat of arms near the wall. She brought her dainty, well manicured hand to her lips to cover her yawn. "Are you sure, Julius? I have no problems snapping my fingers so they all turn to dust; we really should be going, dear."

"Hard work pays off in learned experience." He blinked, paused, arched his back and craned his neck. Something caught his eye at the back of the swarm. A brilliant flash occurred, sending several lumbering corpses into the air. One of the zombified bodies came crashing down at the front of the pile. Three spherical orbs of energy rose into the air then came straight down upon the group, piled up against Sinopa's protective barrier. Belmont backed up to the guest room doorway, adjacent to the kitsune. "I recognize that magic attack…"

"Going to leave your friend out there to deal with this horde, all alone?"

Belmont's eyes dropped to the floor and he frowned. "Have your way with these peons. I refuse to allow them to swarm someone I know." He closed his eyes in anticipation of a brilliant fiery flash. He could feel the heat against his face and when he opened his eyes, Yoko Belnades stood alone with her baton in her right hand. The energy barrier dissipated.

"Julius!" She approached her friend and quickly embraced him with a tight hug. "You're all right!"

"I'm fine," he replied, patting her shoulder blades with his palm. "I was never in any danger."

Sinopa crossed her eyes and fluffed her multitude of tails. "…Thanks to me," she murmured.

Belnades looked up and moved from Julius then nodded respectfully to the woman with the red dress. "I don't know what to say… I've heard of the kitsune, I've seen them in entertainment references, like Japanese manga but…"

"But," interrupted Crevan, "…You thought they were make-believe creatures. It's okay, dear. We're all ignorant about _something_ at some point." She turned her attention to Julius and, as though Yoko was no longer present, bluntly asked, "Who is this hussy?"

Julius, anticipating the clash of feminine egos, quickly lifted both his hands, one palm offered to each lady. "Before we get off on the wrong footing, it would be best if I introduced you to one another." He wasn't very good at playing host, nor was he particularly skilled at being a referee. "This is Yoko Belnades of the Roman Catholic church – she's 'Glenda the Good Witch' and fights for good, researches for the RCC and is _engaged_ to John Hammer, the shop keeper you said you passed when you came in, earlier." He licked his lips somewhat with apprehension then turned to Yoko, seeing the scowl on her face, and said, "She couldn't have meant it, Yoko, because she doesn't know you. She's Sinopa Crevan, a five-tailed kitsune messenger of Inari. She's a fire elemental fox and teleported me in the middle of my fall, as witnessed by Alucard."

The multi-tailed woman slid off the pedestal and approached both Julius and Yoko. "I also have dibs on this man, so don't go trying to sink your claws into him like a succubus."

Yoko's eyes widened further. She lifted her left hand and displayed her ring. "Didn't you _hear _him? I'm _engaged_ to someone _other than_ Julius. I had no idea that magical creatures could be so jealous over _un-magical_ humans."

"The only thing magical here," said Crevan with a smirk, "Is the surprising fact that you've not been killed in a place like this. …Yet."

Belmont cut his gaze to the left then shifted it right, noting that the women had their eyes locked with one another. "You two act like you're sizing up one another," he said but his words went on deaf ears. He watched as the kitsune lifted her right palm; a ball of fire appeared, hovering above her fingertips. Yoko, not one to back down and quickly allowing her emotions to escalate her mood, lifted her left hand. With ease, she conjured a shard of fantastic ice, like a glass prism just above her fingers. He furrowed his brows and, in a commanding voice, said, "This ends _now_."

A grin tugged at the corner of Sinopa's mouth. "Mmm, I love when the alpha male takes charge. It doesn't happen often enough." The redhead narrowed her eyes, to which the blonde woman returned the expression. Metaphorical lightning bolts filled the gap between their faces, eyes locked in a fierce stare-down.

"Get it together," Julius muttered with a sigh. "United we stand, but divided…"

"…Divided we argue," said Yoko. "She owes me an apology for her 'hussy' remark."

"I never apologize for speaking my mind, mortal girl."

"Enough!" Julius snapped one of the whips. Despite the sharp sound, it wasn't enough of an attention grabber to cause either woman to look away from the other. Belmont took a slow, deep breath then said, "All right. I don't have time for this and I have work to do. If you two are going to scrap, I'm leaving. Furthermore, I don't want to hear any more comments about men displaying their testosterone because _this_ demonstration of un-ladylike behavior is foolish and unnecessary." He coiled his whip back upon his belt hook, patted down both the Hunter's Whip and the Vampire Killer then pivoted on his heel and walked away.

"Wait, Julius!" Sinopa shoved passed Yoko and hurried after the hunter. "Wait, it's me. I don't deal well with jealousy and I'm sorry." The awkwardness displayed in her tone was humbling at the least. "I just need a few minutes to be a silly emotional female. I don't mean to prance about like some sort of Mary Sue; I'll give you some time with your friend while I clear my head. It's been forty-eight hours since I've meditated." She quickly cast a glance over her shoulder, glaring at Yoko in silence so that Julius wouldn't know. She mouthed the words, '_This isn't over, hussy_.'

Crevan swatted the hunter's rump and said, "See you soon, love." By the time he turned around, she had vanished in a wavy miasma of heat. The fire kitsune stepped from the physical realm and into the umbra. This left a confused Julius and a befuddled, aggravated Yoko to eye one another.

"Sorry about her," said Julius. "She's an odd one," he added.

"It's not like you to even apologize over something like that," she returned with a shrug. "You're usually all business until the danger subsides. Are you all right?"

"If I'm coming off as moody, it's probably a lack of nutrition." Julius immediately changed his demeanor to one of a stoic professional. "I'll locate something to eat and I'll be myself in no time. What brings you to this side of the castle alone? Don't let Sinopa's words bother you – I know you're capable of traversing Dracula's Castle alone… I just want to know _why_ you're not paired up with another set of eyes and ears for safety-sake. You're _usually_ very careful, Yoko."

She sniffed in a disdainful manner, a reverse sigh in through the nose and out through clinched teeth. "I was separated from Genya; he and your great nephew went off together in search of you, while I offered to do the same – we thought to cover more ground this way. I performed a tracking spell – it worked. You were off the radar all day, though… I took a short break in a safe room then, when you became active in combat, I tracked your energy. I'm glad you're alive."

"Fair enough. Accompany me on my mission – I'm going to activate the castle's teleportation chambers." Belmont canted his head to the left, as if gesturing for her to fall into step with him. He began walking down the hall with Yoko following.

* * *

**Armed with a medium** sized sword, Justus wore the sheath on his back and ventured back into the castle. The first foe he crossed proved itself a successful test; Bell lopped off the skeletons fleshless skull with ease. It collapsed to the ground harmlessly. He continued deeper into the castle, still avoiding any congested hallways where there were numerous enemies.

Halfway down a rather illuminated hallway, he heard footfalls and turned about with his sword at the ready. His eyes widened just in time to see a demonic imp coming at him. The fantastically athletic monster dove at Justus only to be impaled on the boy's sword much like Gmork in _The NeverEnding Story_. He grunted, easing the shuddering body to the ground.

"It would be easier," said a feminine voice, "if you used your claws, boy."

Justus glanced over his shoulder, blinking at the sight of an attractive woman with multiple fox tails behind her. She also had fox-like ears in her rich red hair. "Should… I know you?" He rubbed his eyes with the backside of his wrist then sheathed the sword.

"I'm a friend of your Uncle," she replied. "He's well; I've come to check on you to win his favor. It seems like something he would appreciate." With a flowing sanguine color dress, she approached him and shook her head. "You need to use your claws, darling. You're not practiced with such a weapon as this," she continued, motioning to his sword. She then reached for his hands, addressing the claws he possessed last night. "…See, you need to use the weapons that come _natural_ to you. Why have you changed back to human form? You're practically defenseless in this form, Justus."

"I don't know!" he returned in frustration. "I never _asked_ to have this curse to begin with. I sure as hell don't have control over it!"

"Of course you do!" she rebutted with a sarcastic voice. "Don't be a fool, child! It's easier than you think! It merely takes but a thought to change and yet you're stuck in only one form? It shouldn't even take meditation; the mere _thought _should suffice," she reasoned. "Do you need some sort of instruction on the matter?"

"Could you?" he said, wanting her help if she was somehow able to offer it. "I've tried to change back and forth between the two forms, believe me. I visualized myself changing and nothing happened. I tried imagining the change but it never occurred. What am I doing wrong?"

"Hold your breath," she said. He did as he was told. She folded her hands. "Now release it." He complied. Sinopa grinned slightly. "Now, part of your brain does that for you but you still have control and can hold or release your breath at will."

"Right, the medulla oblongata. But is there a part of my brain that turns me into a freak then back to a human? How do I control _that_?"

She placed her hands upon his shoulders. "Justus, sweet boy, when you were a baby, you breathed because the 'medulla oblongata' was doing its job. But one day, probably the first time your parents took you to a swimming pool or what-have-you… you learned how to hold your breath. That part of your brain also controls your heart beat. Most mortals never utilize the mind-over-matter ability to start and stop their heart at will but they're _very_ much able to do that as well. Now, you've never learned how to will your body to transform, and you have to learn it just the way you learned to hold your breath when you were young, shoulder deep in the water… Why? Because if you took a breath while you were under water, you would drown. Well, learning to change is for self preservation, too. Don't imagine or visualize changing… just _change_. It's honestly that easy."

He frowned, standing before her in his human form without turning. "Is there some way to instinctively trigger it, so that it just naturally happens the first time? Maybe I can figure out how it happened if I change again."

"Subconscious willpower will work," she mused. "You'll change in order to preserve your existence. If you're threatened or if someone you care for is threatened… it'll happen without so much as thinking about it."

"How do I trigger it?" he asked again.

"Who here concerns you enough to make you angry, frustrated or something similar?"

He thought about the question then said, "I suppose Molly Fields; she's missing right now."

"If you knew that her life was in danger, you would become emotional and aggressive?" Sinopa released his shoulders and rubbed her chin in thought. "She's not exactly safe right now but she's not in immediate danger and will remain that way for the time being… anything else?"

"That's good to know; I'm not sure if there is anything else. I guess if I felt like a caged animal or something… I don't know."

She grinned again, patting his right cheek with her left palm. "Let's not endanger your life just to test a hypothesis, love. I came here to help you for Julius, not harm you. We'll figure something out soon enough. Let's continue onward and see if we can't make some sort of progress in this castle, hmm? I'll need to help you change so you can help me sniff out Alucard. I'll explain why later but until we figure out how to change you… there's not much we can do but search with our eyes and ears. C'mon, darling youth." She walked down the hall and he fell into step behind her, his gaze bouncing about on the group of tails in her wake.

"If you know so much, do you know where this werewolf curse came from?"

Sinopa smiled and said, "Cristofor Belmont, also known as _Christof_, was the brother of Simon – not your father… the _original_ Simon Belmont. He was bitten by a werewolf and, quite surprisingly, he survived. That's another story for another day – let's worry upon that when there is time."

* * *

23:45 (11:45pm), July 24th, 2044 – Rome, Italy

"**Soma**!" Mina lowered to one knee, placing her hands on his back. Soma Cruz knelt, doubled over with his forehead almost touching his knees, his hair splayed out across the hardwood floor. She quickly looked him over, checking for physical abnormalities. She eased her right hand under his arm, her palm on his chest in an attempt to help him sit up. Mina Hakuba's eyes widened. She exclaimed, "Your heart is racing wildly! What's wrong, Soma?"

"I…" He drew in a shallow breath then began panting. "…The seal is an Enochian style mandala, and I can see it clearly as if it was before my eyes. There are _three_ bridging arcs between the center circle and the outer lines, but it's overlapped with a similar pattern… it has four symmetrical bridges – it's beautiful… it's four feet in diameter."

"…Soma?"

To her sudden surprise, he sat bolt-upright with his eyes wide. His hair fell about his face in disarray, beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. One went so far as to trail the bridge of his nose, moved to the tip then down over the camber. She caught it with her fingertip just as it came to his top lip. His eyes shifted towards her, discolored with widely dilated pupils. He licked his lips and whispered, "Adrian Tepes is in trouble. He's my guardian angel in a way – I have to make sure he's okay, Mina. I have to go."

"You're not going; you'll get radiation poison!" She pulled his face to her torso, resting her chin atop of his damp hair. "You can't, Soma. You know what that place does to you… it changes you. Your body and soul are bombarded with the souls of those demons and it's hard on you, mentally and metaphysically."

He looked up at her, his weary expression eased to offer a slight smile. "Demons with souls – if not ironic to say, it's still rather… well… polemic, to say the least. Mina, I _have_ to go. If something happens to Alucard, we're no longer safe. How could I marry you, raise a family and live to an old age… knowing that something could threaten us, you, our children… No, I have to make sure he's not dead."

She opened her mouth to reply but was at a loss for words. Her other knee met the floor and she knelt beside him, looking straight into his eyes. His words of children, something she'd never heard him mention before, caused her to smile. "…Oh _Soma_, do you really see us together in that way?" Her hands lifted, cupping either side of his face. "You really see me as your future wife? The mother of your children; your lover and mate?" She couldn't help her strong feelings for him, welling up in her chest – not to mention the butterflies in her belly. "And you didn't even blush when you said it."

"…I." He found himself embarrassed but rather emotionally charged. Between the vision of Alucard and his buried feelings for her and the adrenaline in his blood, he couldn't help but lean forward and kiss her. The surprising passion in his body language took her by surprise. She kept her hands on his face throughout the kiss, ramped up further with a pounding heart. After the kiss ended, he whispered again. "I won't be long and I'll find a safe way in without endangering myself. Besides, I'm sure Romania has the area quarantined so it's not like I could physically walk up to the castle, anyhow. I'll find a way in, though. And, I'll make you a promise for dealing with my… my… impertinence. When I come back, I'll give you something nicer than that promise ring."

A sly grin tugged at the right corner of Mina's mouth. "Is that a fact? Well, only if I say _yes_, of course." Both knew that she would and that she longed for him to ask 'the question'. She lifted her head and kissed his forehead. "I'll call the shrine; my father will wire us the money you'll need to travel west. I'm not going – I don't want to be a ward needing your protection. Just… go there, help Alucard and come home safely. Avoid trouble when you're able… Don't come home with fangs."

A nervous sort of chuckle slipped from Soma; he quickly brought his left fist to his mouth as if covering a cough. "I'll be safe." He then changed the subject. "Where did you put my sword?"

She closed her eyes and leaned back a bit. "It's under my bed, in a flat case between the mattress and box spring. It's oiled and with its metal sheath, Soma. I didn't have it in the leather scabbard, because I read it's bad for the blade. Somehow, I knew your cutlery would get use again… but it's better than the pocket knife you carried the last time you went charging into that stupid castle."

"Yeah, we both know I had to plan for a third trip. I'm a little older; a little wiser this time."

Her face lightened again. "You survived two times before; don't let this third time be 'the charm' or I'll never forgive myself for _letting_ you go back." She stood up and backed away a few steps. "Come home to me, Soma Cruz. I mean it."

"Your father's phone number is in the small white book in the second drawer under my nightstand. It has a large '+81' in front of the number."

Mina tilted her head and offered a coy expression that could have passed as a thin smirk. "I memorize daddy's phone number, Soma. You'd better hurry before I change my mind. Go get dressed and ready – I'll… pack your lunch." She put her hands under his right arm and helped him to his feet.

* * *

**His fingers closed around something** soft, like fur. The soft sensation against Alucard's face felt strange. As the veil over his mind lifted, he recognized the sensation of fur blankets against his face. His eyes opened, looking up at his mother. She placed her palm against his cheek turned her hand over, placing her knuckles against his forehead.

"You have a fever," she said. "Your body needs water – the amount of salt in the blood you've been drinking has dehydrated you, Adrian. You know better." She turned from him, humming softly. The woman picked up a carafe and poured water into an eight ounce glass. Lisa turned back to the bed and handed him the glass with a slight grin. "Funny how the body works, isn't it? You could take an arrow in the torso, legs and arms… but still manage to pick up a fallen comrade and carry him off the battlefield. You could walk ten miles in this condition and not even know you're hurt because of the adrenaline rush… but then something as simple as dehydration causes you so much misery and cripples you. Ah, but such is life. Finish this pitcher of water and you'll be fine. I need to go into town for supplies. I also plan to stop by and check on the nurses over at the church – they have their hands full with a small epidemic. Everyone's come down with horrible congestion and terrible achiness. I love you." She left the room.

Alucard sat up in bed, surrounded by fur blankets. He glanced from left to right but the room setting changed. The carafe of water was nowhere in sight. His mother's sheathed sword hung by a leather strap on the far wall. He lifted his left wrist, noting the time of his wristwatch. His eyes widened in surprise. _Monday, July 25__th__, 2044_, sunset. Quarter after eight in the evening – he'd been unconscious nearly a full twenty-four hours. With a sharp kick, he shoved the blankets from his body and swiveled on the mattress. His boots were at the foot of the bed – he was otherwise fully dressed. His long coat and cape were neatly folded over the backrest of a nearby wooden chair.

He checked himself for possession of the diamond but it wasn't anywhere to be found. He stood up and pivoted, looking around the room. In a nearby bed was Vampira. She remained unconscious. Alucard approached her body, drew back the blankets and frisked her for the diamond. She didn't have it. She wore most of the gown she had on when he saw her last. The incomplete manteau was missing part of the hooped section of the lower gown. It was a rather tasteful if not somewhat in a dishabille state, the loose-fitting gown, deshabillé, showed the woman's shapely feminine build.

The jupe was supported only by another petticoat and a bumroll fasten, where the cone-shaped hoop skirt would have adjoined to the rest of the piece. The manteau was made of an expensive and richly decorated fabric, with fancy embroidery. The sleeves were about elbow-length with frilly winged cuffs from which the lacy frills of the chemise flowed.

She looked pale. He used a finger to open her right eye. The atropine gave her a glazed wide-pupil look, but her eyes were already dilated enough from having been shut. Nonetheless, he could smell a hint of nightshade on her breath. Alucard smirked and said, "Atropine to make your eyes glaze over, little belladonna? Stop living in the past; that look has been out of style for three hundred and fifty years." Alucard received no response.

His eyes lifted, watching Laura enter the room from the far left side. She wore a white petticoat with a flounce, a blue jupe and robe with the bodice hinted at. She wore a negligee jacket and where it opened displayed the front laced corset. A black mouche was displayed over her right temple. She quickly approached her mistress then paused, looking up at Alucard. Watteau pleats from her contouche were worn in casual style, caught up in loops of cord, fixed to the skirt, through pocket slits. Atop her petticoat, she wore small panniers. Laura blushed and knelt down by the bed to hide her body from Alucard.

"Why do you hide?"

She peered up at him and said, "I did not intent for a gentleman to be here or I would not have worn only underclothes."

Alucard turned away from her and the slumbering woman in bed. "Your underwear covers your entire body – a far cry from modern fashion. You're silly to be ashamed – you're wearing _more than me_ right now… and I am fully dressed." He returned to his bed and sat on the edge. He pushed his feet into his boots and laced them then reached for his coat and cloak on the nearby chair. "No matter," he mused. "Are you the one who brought us here?"

Laura remained crouched in a pool of disheveled cloth. "No. I found her here at four in the morning. I came back to check on my mistress just now, only to find _you_ here, as well."

"Why did you leave her side?" asked Alucard, reaching for his sword and fastening the sheath to his hip. "I'm surprised you didn't stay by her all night."

"You _know_ why, you errant bumpkin! I was keeping the house in order while _you_ were tearing it apart!"

"Come off it," Alucard snapped. He drew his sword and caught a glance of her cowering further behind her slumbering mistress. He inspected the blade then returned it to the sheath with a satisfying click. Her head lifted again, peering over the mattress at him. "You act as though I tried to remove your head – you know I only have my sights on your foolish friend."

"Not this morning," Laura replied in a weak voice. "You swept through this abode like a whirlwind. The lower domicile remained safe but everything on the first floor… well," she reared her head further, her voice growing in strength to some degree. "You've spared only the main foyer and adjoining hallways. The clock tower has been cleansed, the Hall of Sorrow is now empty and the grand gallery is in ruins. I couldn't tend to my mistress because I was cleaning up after _you_!"

"My last conscious memory is reaching for the diamond. I cannot find it, however."

She stood up, looking insulted. "Not like you _needed_ it, after you touched it! Gaining its powers require a mere touch! After that, you tossed it aside like trash; only God knows where it is, now!"

Alucard tilted his head, feigning amusement at her outburst. "How long did my rant last?"

She placed her fists upon her hips, glaring at him. "You were in full-blown frenzy for five hours!" Laura stomped in disgust, leering at the man on the other end of the room. "I have no idea how you wound up _here_, nor do I know how Mistress Bathory arrived here. I sensed her and found here sleeping here. She's not been away from this mattress for quite some time."

"Whoever or however she came here," said the ever-young Tepes, "I can only assume we both arrived here by the same means – whether we were drawn here and laid down without help… or whether a castle caretaker brought us here, I cannot be certain. As for your claim of my activities, how do you know _she_ hasn't been running amuck between four in the morning and now? You said so yourself… you only saw her then and now."

"The harpies would have told me if she moved," said Laura. "You're quite the presumptuous man, aren't you? She's not moved."

"Interesting how the harpies didn't mention to you that _I_ joined your mistress in this room at some point in time. Quite reliable, those harpies, aren't they? The _only_ reason I'm _not_ killing your precious little friend is because I need information from her. When she wakes, I'll return. On a semi-related note, where did you two hide that girl?"

Laura sighed. "She escaped less than an hour ago. I came to tell Mistress but, as you can see… she is still unconscious. I _do hope_ you'll behave yourself, Mister Alucard. You were a fearsome sight to behold, earlier today. Odd how you managed to remain on the opposite side of the castle from your allies."

His eyes raked over her form. "Interesting how I failed to notice you in the past, girl. You're quite an attractive one with rather intelligent eyes."

Laura, again looking insulted, huffed and stomped her right foot. "I am _not_ on the market! Besides, I'm _nothing_ like Sonia, nor am I remotely equivalent to Maria Renard! Funny how all of your lovers were enemies of this castle; your flirtatious notion disgusts me!" She looked away, arms folded. After a moment, she peered back over her shoulder to see if he was looking at her.

Alucard Tepes, drew his coat then his cloak. "I'll return when she's awake – I have questions. Tell her if she resists, I'll turn her to dust and free you, little slave girl." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, very much unlike his typical behavior. "Until I see you again, girl." His eyes flitted over her form one last time then he walked out of the room. Once outside, he inspected his palms with furrowed brows and a crease of confusion upon his forehead. He felt… _different_.

However, he didn't feel hateful or vindictive or even remotely spiteful. Were the rumors about the diamond incorrect? He had to find out more answers and for that, he needed to do research. He couldn't sense Yoko Belnades but he _did_ know where the library was. Books were a good place to start. As he walked down the hall, he glanced back at the doorway, insulted by his own behavior in regards to Laura. He no longer had any concern for the trivial tasks from before.

He saw things in a new light now. The teleportation chamber no longer mattered – no one could leave the castle at this time and so that meant there would be plenty of time to figure a way to the far corner tower. While it was currently inaccessible, it didn't have the diamond, it held nothing of importance, save for the most direct route _out_ of the castle… It no longer mattered. He wasn't sure if Julius was dead, but that seemed unimportant as well. Finally, Alucard now felt apathy in concern to Julius Belmont's great nephew. Whether or not the boy had the power to wield the Vampire Killer whip, Dracula was already dead… In hindsight, it seemed fitting to think the Belmont clan would come to an end, too.

The castle was shielded from harm, beyond the grasp of the mortal realm. If anything, this was the perfect place for Alucard to return to slumber… or, better yet, enjoy himself. It was a protected sanctuary, sealed and impregnable. Why worry upon the woes of the mortal realm? Was it really anything more than drama, anyhow?

After a moment of studying his hands, Alucard grew further apathetic and dropped them to his side. So what if he felt differently than before? Trivial past happenstance suddenly held no meaning – he lost interest in the last several days. Now he only wanted one thing… to be left to his own devices and relax. For that to happen, he had to clear the castle of scum then he could devote himself to things more fascinating than what the mortal world had to offer.

He opened the library door and stepped into the fantastic hall. Adrian Tepes rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He had something on his mind that he wanted to know… diablerie – were he to become a diabolist, would he become more powerful from draining Vampira? It was a rumor – the ultimate vampiric sin. But he wanted to know before going to consume her. After all, if he did drink her into oblivion, wouldn't her thrall fall into step beneath _him_? Dark thoughts began to consume his mind… Why destroy other vampires and freakish beings, when he could simply possess their energies for himself?

* * *

A/N: _Okay, so… I was shocked to receive feedback on this chapter. I usually have only a very few reviews per chapter but this last one netted me four in a short amount of time. So, because I was really glad to get noticed, I decided to write another chapter. Now, keep in mind… I have NO IDEA where I'm going with this plot, LOL. I'm making this stuff up as I go along. I usually don't do stories about original characters, either! So for me to bring in Justus Bell, James Johnson, Sinopa Crevan and Molly Fields… that's pretty over-the-top for me. What can I say? I LIKE my original characters, but I usually don't write fan fiction about OCs, because you're here to read about castlevania characters. That's what Fan Fiction is… stories about the franchise and the characters of its world. But by tying Justus into the Belmont line and Cornell's line, well… whatever. Like I said, though… I'm making this stuff up as I go along. Not only that, I'm pretty surprised (and impressed) at the amount of female readers in this fandom. Hoorah for chicks who like Castlevania! I'm not going to lie – that's hot. _

_Anyhow, it's time to finish up one of my older stories, The Curse… it's time to finish up Spy Cooper and Reflections of Marcus McCloud… and throughout, I'll be by to update THIS story, since I've always liked it. A lot. And stuff. Rawr. _

_-Ken_


	15. Chapter 14: One Big Family

A/N: _Sorry it's taken so long! BOY have I found a lot of inconsistencies and loopholes while re-reading this story! I don't mean in canon – I'm already using almost every CV game at once and tying it together my OWN way, knowing that MANY aren't canon anymore. Needless to say, I have all the new ones to implement and I know how to touch upon them without FORCING them into the storyline. Also, I need to touch up this story and fix things. Lots of spelling, grammar in the narration and other things that make it untidy. Some things I can fix in the story, like where I randomly go back and forth between Alucard having silver hair as seen when he's in combat, and suddenly he has black hair, like when he's in the Arikado disguise. _

_I doubt Alucard uses Hair Color For Men to "target just the gray areas." No, I think he's using a spell to obfuscate his hair with magic because in Dawn of Sorrow he suddenly goes from black to silver and his clothes change in the snap of a finger. It's not like he was saying, "Sure, I'll join your team, Julius. Stand by while I wash this dye out of my hair and get my combat duds." So I'll address that here. One less loophole to worry about, right? I've added a new character and will be writing a few out soon. More on that later!_

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* * *

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CHAPTER -**14**-  
"One Big Happy Family"

**Soma Cruz** glanced back over his shoulder at the sight of a Lesser Demon sinking to its knees in agony. He dropped the dying body of an imp that he had by the throat and turned the rest of the way around. As the tall demon fell forward onto its face, Soma saw a man beyond the corpse clad in all black with hair that came to his collar.

Cruz took a moment to size the man up. The stranger had a black folded bandana with rhinestones that covered his nose only. His shirt was black but shiny with buckles down the torso. Between each line of buckles were enormous round buttons with crosses on each one. His dress shoes were pointy at the toes with some fancy design on the top. They appeared to be loafers. The man offered a smile.

"Wh- who are you?" asked Cruz.

The stranger had a rather average voice, nothing too deep or fancy but he held a tone of confidence and authority. "I am Giakanokus. You must be the legendary Mister Soma Cruz from abroad. Weren't you last in Japan; what brings you to Europe?"

"I've moved to Italy. How do you know me, Mr. Giakanokus?" He pronounced the name the same way as the stranger… _Gaia-kah-no-kus_.

"You and your allies dethroned Celia Fortner, correct? Just a few years ago, I believe… I am a scout for a supernatural society. I've come to assess the situation at this fortress. How did you arrive?"

Soma sheathed his sword and said, "I learned of a transportation chamber that leads into the castle. Have you been here since before the nuclear blast?"

"I arrived two hours before it occurred."

Cruz rubbed his temples. "Close call."

"Perhaps so." Giakanokus walked in a slow circle around Soma as if sizing him up in return. "So… you're Gabriel."

"Pardon? I've been called names other than my own but never that."

"Gabriel Belmont was dropped off at a church by a member of the Cronqvist family. You know that name, don't you? Mathias Cronqvist?"

"I… I've heard it."

"He was supposedly thirty-two years old, the same age as Jesus Christ was when the messiah left our mortal realm. Some say that Mathias was the anti-Christ but didn't even know it. He was… shall we say… '_reborn_' as Vlad Tepes the Third."

Soma looked him over carefully. "How does 'Gabriel' play into this? I've done a lot of historical research on my apparent past life. I think you mean Matyas Corvinus of Hungary's house of Hunyadi. He was called _Matthias_ by many, and had Vlad Tepes as his vassal at times and, once, as a prisoner up in Buda. At some point, probably while in prison, he converted to Catholicism."

"History is written by the winners. Modern history is written by the great, great grandchildren of winners who pass on information to scholars to make their ancestors look great. Vlad Tepes was a real man who died halfway through his campaign against the Muslims. A man named Gabriel Belmont committed what we now call, "Identity Theft." He appeared from the shadows and took over as Vlad Tepes, employing the same tactics of impaling his religious enemies, claiming it was the will of Almighty God – that's where the 'conversion to Catholicism' came from. The Turks were impaled in the thousands - for that reason the name Vlad Tepes is a modern folk hero in Romania. Rome, Venice and Berlin saw him as evil, though. Thank Corvinus for _that_ little 'smear campaign'.

"Anyhow, 'Vlad' married the reincarnated version of his wife, lost several centuries prior. And, for a time, Gabriel was happy. He allowed the head of the real Vlad Tepes to be taken to the Sultan of Constantinople. He lived as 'Dracula' for a time; with Vlad thought to be dead by the Muslims, they left Poenari Castle alone. Dracula was a vampire at this point but he had a human wife. The mother of Adrian "Alucard" Tepes. She was killed – her humane use of medicine and science was seen as witchcraft. That was the _second time_ Gabriel experienced the loss of his mate. And, when it happened, 'Dracula' proclaimed himself at war with humans."

Soma appeared to have absorbed most of the story but confusion marred his brow. "So… Mathias wasn't the evil Dracula? Gabriel Belmont was?"

"Humanity writes history as they understand it… but lines were blurred. You see, my boy, Gabriel Belmont was a member of the Brotherhood of Light. But he didn't age – that's an entirely different story for a different day. At any rate, Gabriel found out that the family who left him on the church's doorstep was named, "Cronqvist." When you're immortal, you have quite a lot of time on your hands. He changed his name to Mathias and married. His wife, Elisabetha, was the reincarnated form of his first wife, who was murdered. With a love-healed heart, he sought to redeem his past and joined ranks with the church to fight in the crusades. He became friends with a man to whom he was related. That line took the 'Belmont' surname; the friend's name was Leon.

"Elisabetha died and, again, Gabriel was in anguish. Again, the love of his life was taken from him. He was immortal because of as Mask he'd found in his past. But his hurt made him spiteful towards God. And, so, he became a vampire in order to obtain mastery of shadow magic. He asked Leon to join him but Leon vowed that his bloodline would fight against Mathias… against _Gabriel_ forever. Mathias, in defeat, assumed the identity of Vlad Tepes the Third about two hundred and fifty years later. Again, he found the reincarnated version of his wife and he married her. They were quite happy but the Muslims attacked the castle. To avoid capture, rape and dismemberment, his wife flung herself from Poenari Castle – we now refer to that water as "Princess River." As Vlad, he impailed thirty thousand Turks, lining the Danube Delta for many miles with their bodies. He went to war against them until 1476 when he, again, met the reincarnated version of his wife. At the time, she was far too young to marry. During that time, he'd married a woman named Ilona Szilagyi to help ease his recent hurt and because she was a cousin to King Matthias… she provided him two sons but both eventually died – the second one passed from illness in 1482, six years after his father was assumed as 'dead'. You see, when his reincarnated wife was discovered, Vlad faked his death and assumed the name "Dracula". He disappeared, waiting until the woman became of age. He married her and they gave birth to Adrian "Alucard" Tepes, although Adrian's surname was a secret, really. Dracula had not chosen another identity and was quite fond of his most recent one. So Adrian's surname became Tepes.

"When she was killed for 'crimes of witchcraft', Dracula exclaimed that he was at _war with humanity_. I used to watch for the reincarnations of Gabriel's long-lost wife – he never found her again, you see, but rumor has it, she was somewhat-recently reborn in Japan. I wonder if you'll ever become reunited with her again as you two were obviously soul mates."

"J-Japan you say?"

"Indeed. Love transcends mortality, Soma." Giakanokus lifted his left hand, showing Soma that he once wore a metal band on his finger due to the discoloration of his skin – a tan-line. "I know the power of True Love from my _past_ life but I haven't found her in _this_ one. My recent wife wasn't true love and, ultimately, it ended in divorce. But I _will_ one day find my _soulmate_."

"You're sure my… _Gabriel_'s wife's soul was reborn into a Japanese girl?"

"I'm not sure _if_ she's Japanese. I just know she was born _in_ Japan – whoever or wherever she is, if she's like her past lives then she's a sweet girl and a wonderful caregiver."

Soma looked at the floor and licked his lips, thinking of Mina Hakuba. He pondered if his shy adoration for her might have truly been something deeper and more meaningful than simple human emotions. Cruz glared at the ground for a moment longer then lifted his eyes and said, "I was born 2017 – that's eighteen years after Dracula was finally killed."

"Ironic. Whoever the soulmate is, she was also born in 2017_… in Japan_," he repeated at the end. Giakanokus smiled in a knowing way. "If you find that girl, treat her well. You'll know her because you'll trust her more than any other in your whole life." He reached for Soma's left hand and motioned to the Cruz's empty ring finger. "Why is this finger still bare, Soma? Marry her. You won't regret it."

The young man licked his lips and nodded. "I… I sure will. You seem to know a great deal – do you know where I can find Adrian… "Alucard" and, if so, can you take me to him?"

"I can tell you that he is, in fact, here in this castle. But I have no connection to him and, so, I cannot locate him like a bloodhound. …Vampire pun _not_ intended."

Cruz's face contorted to show he found the joke in poor taste. "…Yeah. You're a funny guy. So, why are _you_ here?"

"Again, I'm here as a mercenary – I'm assessing the situation to determine whether or not the supernatural community needs to intervene."

"Have they ever done so before?"

"_Many_ times," said the man. "Not directly. Think of us as a master Illuminati. We do what it takes to ensure the right people are put into a position to take down Dracula if the Belmont family is unable to do it. We manipulated the Order of Ecclesia into taking him down once. We manipulated a Devil Forgemaster into taking Dracula down three years after being destroyed by Trevor Belmont. It wasn't exactly pretty – we manipulated Isaac Lebedenko into murdering Hector's wife, Rosaly. This sent Hector into a blind rage where he headed back to 'finish' things – we felt Trevor needed help, as he did three years prior. Trevor wound up wounded, Isaac wound up being the vessel for Dracula's rebirth, which would have happened anyhow, as Dracula wished it… in the end, Hector did exactly what we needed… he slew Dracula. Ironically, he fell in love with Isaac's sister, Julia Laforeze. Also, we've woken Alucard and sent him after his own father. Not once but _twice._"

"I thought fairies were humane and kindhearted."

"Not all of them," said Giakanokus with a smile. "And not all the time. How do you know it wasn't the Lycan people, though? I'm half were-beast, after all."

"Because werewolves are in the thick of things as much as I was… they're pawns, too."

"You're quite perceptive. And that's why the Fae are so disgusted with me – the offspring of a _princess and a pawn_ is disgusting. But I am happy with my life so it matters not."

"Happy but divorced, huh?"

Giakanokus smiled. "I'm back on the market, looking for a woman with whom I am compatible. I've not yet found the one from my past life but that doesn't mean I can't be happy with someone else in the meantime. It's a fact, True Love is more powerful and satisfying than marrying the wrong woman, but… I'm also in love with the idea of being in love. So, until I find her, I'm content to be a bachelor on the prowl; I'm content to date around, you know?" He abruptly changed the subject. "Soma, I'd be honored to fight alongside the reincarnation of Gabriel Belmont. I'll help you look for Alucard. Perhaps there are enough 'players' in this castle that my kind does not need to intervene. I'll take my leave once I've finished amusing myself here."

"I thought you only interfere when Dracula needs to be defeated? He's dead." Soma lifted his right index finger. "I'm living proof." This time, he was the one to offer a pun.

The man shrugged off Soma's attempt at humor and said, "But Dracula's essence _is_ here and it's very much in control. So, believe it or not, this situation is quite serious. Let's go."

* * *

X

**A stone axe flew over **Julius' head. He ducked easily then unleashed his whips, snagging two demonic axmen by their throats in unison. He turned his palms upwards, tightened his fists around the handles then pulled them together. The two ghouls slammed into one another.

Yoko lifted her arms. Her clothes ruffled up from an unseen wind then electricity raced from her fingertips, killing both undead enemies. Their armor crumpled harmlessly to the ground. She lifted her hand, pushing back a lock of blonde hair. "Both whips at once, huh? Isn't that a little like crossing the streams?"

"Talk about classic pop culture," he murmured. "Mm, perhaps it is but if you remember the movie correctly, they couldn't beat Gozer until they crossed the streams. Sometimes, your best bet is to kick it up a notch and use all the tools you have at your disposal."

She nodded, giving her scepter another practice twirl. "What happens after we activate the inter-castle teleportation chambers?"

"I hunt down Camilla… _Vampira_, whatever she's calling herself right now. Then I whip her repeatedly and we see what comes of that." Julius' slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth until there was a small grin. "We're almost there." His voice, gruff as ever, held a hint of good nature towards Belnades.

"At least you didn't leave me high and dry like last time."

"That was nine years ago," he murmured. "I left you at the drawbridge because I knew it would be dangerous."

"I'm a strong woman. I don't need to be treated like a little girl."

"If I were to have died, you'd have gone in to finish what I'd started. But if we both got killed together…" He shook his head, continuing into the next room. "Yoko, it's in the past." He grumbled under his breath, "Just like a woman to hold the past against you."

"What was that?"

Julius' grin returned to that of a smirk. "Nothing. C'mon, this way. It's at the end of the hallway." He reached for a door handle but it wouldn't budge. Belmont kicked the door but it appeared well constructed. "Stand back," he murmured with a wave of his hand. Yoko moved back a few paces and folded her arms around herself as if cold. Julius moved away from the door then sprinted towards it. Yoko couldn't be sure but, to her, Julius appeared to glow for a mere instant. He delivered a powerhouse kick that blew the double doors off their hinges.

Yoko watched him, impressed. She drew out her fancy cell phone and checked for reception then shoved the useless device back into her pocket. "Even all the way up here, I'm getting almost nothing."

"What's the matter? You don't have '6G' coverage out here?" His words were mocking but in a semi-playful way. He knew she wanted to be his fighting protégé despite the danger. "Let's do this, kid." He walked into the room, stepping over the doors that wobbled precariously on their knobs. Four hooded people looked up from across the room. One of them drew back his hood and narrowed his eyes at the couple in the doorway.

"What is the meaning of this?" He lifted his hand and gestured to someone off to the left. "Kill these interlopers."

From out of the shadows of another doorway, two vampires came into the room dressed in leather with studs. Their hair was reminiscent of the 80's hip-hop scene but their clothes were a mix between punk and 'biker'. Decorated in jewelry and brass knuckles, they moved to flank the left and right sides of the doorway where Julius and Yoko stood.

"Fly, look at this dude's duster coat and crazy ascot. His collar is leopard print!"

Julius sighed in irritation. "Step aside, Bebop and Rocksteady. I don't have time for your…"

"WHAT!" The one with the curls in his hair punched his right knuckles into his left palm.

Yoko shrugged. "Sorry, Julius. Pop culture only goes so deep for me – your joke went over my head. I guess it's a thing from _your_ youth – I don't get it."

The other vampire, with the flattop, sneered. "I got the joke. And the humor dates you, old man. You've gotta be at least in your mid-to-late sixties."

Julius uncoiled a single whip. "Good guess." He waited for both vampires to run towards him. His left hand fished out a bottle of Holy Water from his pocket. Instead of throwing it at them, he crushed it into his palm. A hard rain came from the ceiling, drenching the immediate area, although it appeared to be repelled by an unseen barrier that surrounded the four hooded men. (A/N: _Yes, that was an item-crash. lol_)

Meanwhile, the two vampires shrieked in pain. Spots began to show up on their leather jackets. They covered their faces with their arms. Now vulnerable to attack, Julius approached the one with the flattop hair and snapped his whip around the man's waist. Belmont caught the tip then crossed his wrists, pulling the tip away from the handle by the ball at the whip's end, in reverse, so that he used the whip to squeeze the man around his waist. Vampire Killer diced through the vampire's waist, as if it were a knife cutting through warm butter. The whip left a gash all the way around the vampire's waistline that went in so deep that his entrails spilled out down the front of his pants.

The leech shrieked and flailed, trying to get away. "STOP!" Julius continued until he got all the way to the vampire's spine. It snapped with a jarring sound, breaking through bone, sinew and decayed organs. The vampire's upper half fell to the floor and he began to hurry away by using his hands. His lower half remained motionless, leaving an enormous puddle of blood on the floor.

Yoko Belnades turned away, swallowing back bile that threatened to race up her throat. She bit her lip, swallowed again and shuddered from the mental image now stuck in her head. "J…Julius, don't play with him."

"He doesn't mess around like the wolf kid," said the one with the curls in his hair. "This isn't good."

The one on the floor shouted for help. "Fly, help me!"

"Mc G, he's …all he did was wrap that whip around you like a belt and it cut right through you! We can't fight someone like _that_!" He glanced up just in time to see Yoko waving her hand. "Wait, wait, hold on lady, what are you doing?" The floor began to glow with fire in a circle around him. "Whoa, WHOA! Goddamn fire…" His eyes widened further and he exclaimed, "The fire is getting closer!" The circle closed around him until all the chemicals in his hair combusted, followed by his clothes then his skin. He screamed in agony, writhing around as the fire consumed him.

Julius knelt down by the one who was now cut in half. "You saw the '_wolf kid_'? When?"

"Yesterday!"

"Did you kill him?"

"No," Mc G shouted, "He was too tough but he didn't man-handle us like _you_! You sawed me in half, it effing _hurts_!" Using his undead healing abilities, his lower portion began to frost over with lumpy flesh, sealing the bottom of his body from bleeding out. "Look, mister, I'm just here because I'm _told_ to be here!"

Julius drew out one of his throwing axes, quickly severed the vampire's head then stood up and slid the handle back into the belt of his long coat, at the small of his back. He snapped the Vampire Killer then addressed the four hooded men. "I don't like when people waste my time." No one answered him. "Any more goons? Serious ones, this time?" Again, the four men didn't answer.

Belmont approached them, drew his arm back and cracked his whip but it struck the barrier and flopped to the floor without even so much as snapping. He drew his arm back and took a sideswipe, but he couldn't land a hit through the barrier. "Yoko…"

Belnades approached the edge of the barrier and placed her palms upon it. She focused her energy on it then glanced at Julius and said, "So long as those men are all alive, they might be able to sustain this barrier for quite some time."

"Forget'em for now, then." Julius circumvented the invisible magic dome that surrounded the four men. He approached the far wall and reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stone object then pushed it into an effigy carved into the wall. A soft mechanical hum started up behind the wall. Julius turned to Yoko and said, "Okay, the inter-castle teleportation rooms are back online." He snapped his whip against the floor, glaring at the four men within. "You boys have to come out some time… and when you do, I'll tear you apart if you don't answer my questions." Nothing. He snorted disdainfully then sighed at their lack of a reaction.

Yoko watched them for a moment then quietly said, "They look older than you." Julius didn't respond to her joke. She fidgeted then said, "Well, maybe. It might be close. Didn't you just have a birthday recently?"

"Does it matter?"

"Aw, come on, Julius, everyone loves birthdays. You get free stuff. Yeah, you get a year older… but come on, you get cake and people sing to you. It's not all that bad." Again he didn't reply. She smirked and said, "You just keep right on going with that tough guy act. I know, deep down, you love birthdays, too."

Julius kept his eyes on the four men in the center of the barrier. A thin smirk tugged at the corner of his face. "Yoko, do you know what a birthday is? It's when they set fire to your dessert; they stand around laughing and singing while you desperately try to put out the flames."

She leered at him for a moment then, quite suddenly, silvery peels of soft feminine laughter rang out. "Oh my goodness! Julius, you just made a joke! That's so cute!"

"Don't get excited. Humor happens. Keep sharp – these men may be waiting for us to let our guard down."

"You only ever have that problem because you have too many candles to blow out in one try." She waited to see if he'd reply but he didn't. Belnades frowned. "Julius, come on, you can't even smile at my jokes?"

"What kind of energy could act as a solid barrier capable of holding someone off?"

She sighed. "Dark energy." Seeing he was business, she decided to be business as well and folded her arms in a semi-stoic way. "Why?"

"That's like matter and anti-matter right? They cancel each other out but have strikingly different properties?"

"Yes," she said. "Negative energy can be solidified without transferring… so you won't be shocked by it – it won't flow through you or electrocute you."

Belmont came alongside of her and used his free left hand to take her by the elbow. He guided her back to the barrier and said, "Introduce it to positive energy."

She frowned. "Do you _know_ what happens when matter and anti-matter come in contact?"

"I'm not a scientist. I'm a _mercenary_ of God. And one thing that mercenaries know how to do is _blow things up_. Strike it with lightning." He released her elbow and stepped back a few paces. "Go on."

With a slow shake of her head, Yoko grumbled under her breath and rubbed her palms together. "This is foolish, stupid, immature and…" She continued to grumble then pushed both palms out. An orb of pure lightning came from her fingertips and struck the barrier. Just as she'd predicted the reaction was explosive. The energy reacted similar to same-polarity magnets, throwing her body back.

Julius caught her with ease, standing firm like an anchor. He put her back on her feet and gave her a gentle push at her shoulders as if suggesting she try again. Yoko huffed, shoved her blonde bangs back then rolled up her sleeves and tried again. This time, she gave it twice the raw energy, focusing the channeled lightning into the barrier. Same as before, it blew her backwards and Julius caught her. However, the stronger attack caused the barrier to fizzle out on one side. The bright aura visibly disappeared for a brief amount of time.

Julius didn't waste a single moment. He shoved Yoko forward and the two charged in through the gap. All four hooded men looked up at the approaching duo. Belmont drew his fist back and snapped it forward, using his whip to swing at them. The Vampire Killer wrapped around all four hooded robes but to his surprise, all four men disappeared. The robes dropped, getting tangled up in his weapon. Quite suddenly the duet was alone with two dead vampires' remains on the floor. Julius clenched his left fist and said, "Something tells me those four men know what's going on and why everything is happening."

"I'm sorry they got away from you, Julius."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Don't ever be sorry for something that isn't your fault." He recoiled his whip on his right hip then told her, "Something tells me they won't utilize the same method of defense a second time. Okay, well, our job here is finished. Let's head back towards the first floor and see what's going on?"

"I'm right behind you," she said, adding, "Whoever they were, those men put up a very powerful barrier. I had to amplify my energy attack – I practically gave it all I had just to open up a small side in their energy shield. That was draining. I won't be able to do that sort of thing multiple times and still have the energy to fight afterwards. Let's try and find another way to disarm them, just in case."

"Quite right," he replied, headed through a door in the wall that took them to a teleportation chamber.

* * *

X

"**At this point**, I should let _you_ fight everything for me." Justus reached for his sword then dropped his hand with a shrug. "You kill those things before I can even blink."

"I'm growing tired," she murmured. "As a man, you should pull your weight, you know. Perhaps if we were in danger, you'd transform."

"Am I not already in danger?"

"I mean _mortal danger,_" she said. As if on cue, or perhaps as if Sinopa Crevan had planned such, a demonic creature bound up the hall headed for Justus. This time, however, Sinopa folded her arms instead of destroying it. "Transform, young man."

Justus drew his sword quickly and swung it just as the creature approached him. However, the blade struck the creature only serving to agitate the being. The demonic imp grasped Justus by the neck and threw him up against the wall. Sinopa watched on with interest but for all the struggling the boy did, he didn't transform. She sighed, watching as the creature threatened to devour him. Justus cringed away from the being's foul breath. It was obviously far too powerful of an enemy for him to handle.

He pulled his sword up and the blade diced through it, protruding from its back. The demon screamed in pain then opened his jaws, ready to lunge. Sinopa shook her head, murmuring, "This simply won't do." And just as the demonic imp was about to bite into his throat, the entire creature vanished. She watched Justus slump to the floor for a moment then she shook her head with said, "Well, you were certainly about to die but… it didn't happen. I'm running low on options."

"Fine, whatever. Maybe it stopped happening, whatever. Get me to wherever Molly Fields is located. _Now_," he said with a tone of authority.

"Well, I _do_ love when a man takes charge… I suppose we'll do things your way, just once," said Crevan. She headed to the nearest door, opened it and said, "Come along." And, together, they began to walk down the next hallway.

"You know, that girl has an enormous blue diamond that turns red in certain lighting. She was trying to get it to the next city over for money."

"All she wants is money?" Sinopa smiled. "Such a mortal commodity is quite easy to obtain – if she seizes it before I do, I would surely give her such as money is useless to me."

"Make her an offer, but she'll know where it is most likely… why do _you_ want it?"

"Long story."

They continued through the dimly illuminated corridor. Several moments passed and Justus sniffed at the air. "I… guess I still have some of my abilities or whatever. Do you smell that?"

Her dainty nose twitched then she shook her head. "I smell only you, dear."

"No, there's two people coming this way." Justus continued alongside of her. At the next intersection, they saw two men halfway down the hall, their backs towards the couple. Bell cleared his throat to catch their attention. The two men turned about and cautiously approached. Justus noted the one had silvery near-shoulder-length hair and an impressive sword. The other had his nose covered, a fancy black outfit with shoes, and his hair was long at the center, like a Mohawk. "You two obviously aren't freaks. I'm Justus and this is Sinopa."

"Soma," said the first.

"Giakanokus," replied the other. His eyes flitted to Crevan. "A pleasure, miss."

A wry grin tugged at the kitune's maw. "Hello, gentlemen." She nodded to Soma, adding, "_You_ I know." Her eyes flitted to the more mysterious man with the noseband. "You, however, I do _not_ know. Why hide your face?"

"Because I can," he replied. "The two of you shouldn't be here."

Sinopa smiled. "The same could be said for the two of you, boys." Her eyes lowered then lifted, drinking in the build of each man. "So, Dracula and a lackey – to what do we owe this 'honor'?"

"_He_ is Dracula?" asked Justus with wide eyes. "I thought he was supposed to have a cape and a fancy medal with a ribbon. I thought he was supposed to have dressy clothes and all that other nonsense." Justus paused briefly then added, "But your coat _is_ pretty cool."

Soma offered a weak smile. "Thanks. And yeah, I'm not much of a Dracula. Dark colored clothing just isn't my style." His eyes cut back to Sinopa. "How did you know?"

"Because I'm good like that," she replied with a smile. Her gaze cut back to Giakanokus. "And you, Mr. Lacky? What was your name again?"

"It doesn't matter," said the mysterious man. "I've come separately from Mr. Soma Cruz. I'm here to make sure he doesn't die. Heaven forbid his soul is reincarnated again without Last Rites, then he comes back as a tyrant once more." He glanced back to Justus and tilted his head. "But you… _you're_ interesting." He inhaled deeply, causing the noseband to twitch slightly. "You're a werewolf, full blooded with _quite_ the scent."

"I…" Justus trailed off with a frown. "It's been almost two days without a shower, sorry."

"Nonsense," said Sinopa. "He smells like a _man_ and it's rather nice."

Giakanokus shook his head. "No, I mean that Mr. Justus is impressively endowed in the supernatural sense."

Sinopa turned to Justus, feigning faux sexual interest. "You _are_, my dear? Why haven't you mentioned such before? I'm an adult woman and I wish to know these things."

Despite Justus' blush, Giakanokus stepped between the couple and said, "No, miss. I mean that he's capable of breaking a kitsune in half with brute force if given the opportunity."

She lifted a hand and pushed her bangs back, pretending to be insulted. She shook her head then said, "I don't 'break'. I'm more than able to handle _any_ man." She paused then moved closer to the semi-masked person and looked him over as if looking through him. "Your aura…" She blinked as if surprised. "You're a _familiar_?"

"I am no one's familiar," he said in a firm tone. "Yes, the Fae have been familiars to many but I am _not_ here acting as Post-Dracula's familiar spirit. I am here to do reconnaissance. What brings _you_ here, vixen?"

"A Hoshi no Tama – again, why do you hide your nose?"

"Perhaps, one day, I will tell you if you still wish to know. So, you're seeking Alucard for your diamond?"

Sinopa looked delighted. "Indeed, I am!"

Giakanokus nodded. "Then join us." He trailed off then quirked a brow at Justus. The man moved closer then brought his right hand to his mouth. "My word… You're a _Belmont_." Silence. He blinked twice. "No wonder you radiate with power. But if you're a werewolf then will you not take up The Whip?"

Justus looked to the floor with a shrug. "Maybe I'll just pass it along to my future kid or something. If I even decide to have one."

Soma said, "You should. It's important I'm told."

"Indeed it is," Giakanokus said. "Perhaps one of the greatest contributions you can offer, just in case. Not every Belmont needs to fight. But every so often, a lucky generation comes along and is called to battle. I would advise you to keep the line going."

Sinopa glanced back at Justus. "I'm not sure how I failed to see it before but… the man is right. You _are_ a Belmont, aren't you?"

"Yes." Justus fidgeted. "I'm still not quite sure what that even means. But yes, just so we're all clear here… I'm a Belmont."

"Have you ever used that sword before?" asked Soma. "Just today. I've already killed things with it, if that's what you're asking." Soma smiled. "Have you ever used a sword before today?" He waited, watching as Justus shook his head. Soma's smile broadened. "And yet you've killed 'things' with it… plural. See? You're a natural warrior. You pick up a weapon and use it naturally. It's in your blood. The Belmont family is supposed to be mighty and honorable. You look like you could bench press more than myself, even though I'm no slouch."

"I did weight training in gym class back in high school." Justus glanced back at the other man. "How did you know I'm a werewolf?"

The half-breed folded his hands. "Because I'm part Lycan, too. I must admit, I'm intrigued to see a Belmont Werewolf on the battlefield."

Justus frowned. "I don't know how to transform back into that thing. Last time it happened was in the light of the moon. I already tried that again but I won't change back anymore."

"The moonlight is for a first time effect," said Giakanokus with a shrug. "Once it happens that first time, you have to will it to occur again. Cornell had it down to a science. He had impressive mastery of it. But what took him years to figure out has been passed down through generations. It's an on-off switch; it's honestly that simple. You just need to learn what your 'activator' is."

"My _what_?"

Giakanokus rubbed his hands together. "Have you ever read that study about the guy who was a volunteer to be awake during open brain exploratory surgery?"

Soma snapped his fingers and cut in. "The one with the guy who had the memory thing?"

Justus blinked, remembering something about that on the news a year ago. "Right, the guy whose brain was exposed while they did stuff to study him. Didn't they apply low voltage current to parts of his brain and it caused him to experience his entire life in an instant in perfect detail?"

"Something like that," said the man with a nod. "There's a way to stimulate the part of your brain that allows you to transform. I knew a man who couldn't do it until the day he was electrocuted. …After that, it came natural."

"I'm not trying to get myself shocked to hell," said Justus with a grunt.

Sinopa shook her head and placed her palms on either side of Justus' neck, standing behind him. Quite suddenly, his eyes jolted wide and his hair stood up. His body dropped to the ground, a wisp of steam emanated from his shirt and hair. She folded her arms, standing over his collapsed form.

Soma blinked. "What the _hell_ did you do _that_ for?"

Giakanokus put his arm out, guiding Soma to stay back. "Blunt and sudden but she's doing what I'd just mentioned to try and give Justus the ability to change at will. Don't worry, Mr. Cruz, his heart is still beating and he's breathing." His eyes lifted to Sinopa. "Ma'am, your straightforward tactics are commended yet must be brought into question. Why transform him if we're all supernatural here?"

"I'm not," Soma murmured.

"Like hell you aren't," said Crevan with a smirk.

"You have the dominance ability, _plus_ you struck down plenty of blatantly supernatural creatures when you were last in this castle. You did what military types could not. You fought your way through this castle, alone, with a mortal man's weapon – swords, axes and what-have-you. That's not normal or natural, it's _super_natural."

"If you say so but those abilities cease as soon as I leave the castle each time." Soma knelt besides Justus, placing a hand on his forehead. "He feels like he has a fever. That was …I don't know how I feel about this. Have some humanity for the guy. He's apparently new to all of this craziness."

Giakanokus shook his head. "No offense, Mr. Cruz, but the 'newborn Dracula' is being a _pussy_."

Sinopa's smile brightened. She put her hands on Giakanokus' left arm. "You have moxie, my dear sir." She glanced back to Soma and added, "Justus Bell will be _fine_. Help him up, we should continue on to find Alucard. The sooner we finish, the sooner everything can return to normal again." As she spoke, she came alongside of the half-breed, snaking her hands around either side of his black-sleeved bicep. "Soma, just help him up, dear."

"Fine," said Cruz, reaching to take Justus from beneath his arms. It took a moment of struggling with dead weight but Soma finally managed to get Justus to his feet, hoisting the youth up with an arm around the shoulder. "Okay," Soma told them. "I'm ready to move forward. We need to find Hammer, too. He's bound to be in here somewhere. Gut feeling." Cruz carefully reached around Justus' form and found a belt loop then hoisted the unconscious teenager up over his left shoulder. "Okay," he repeated. "I wanna finish this and go home to my girl. So… let's get through this nonsense."

* * *

X

A/N: _There's a lot going on! Justus still has to get the body belonging to Ortega down in the lower chambers below the castle. Soma shows up after all. Giakanokus is a wild card that I came up with. He's the last Original Character, I swear. Justus will be okay when he wakes up. Soma wants to find Hammer, Alucard and go home. There are a lot of characters throughout the castle right now. I'm going to start bringing them back together and writing a few out soon. Does anyone have any favorites? Just let me know! J_

_ames Johnson is definitely going to be a candidate for leaving – he was in purgatory along with the castle since one of the appearances in the 1800s, which is why he'd never seen a modern piston at the beginning of the story. Just let me know how you guys feel. _ _I'm going to finish Sly Cooper: Dawn of Progeny's last chapter and epilogue then I'll be back to put more time into this story. _

_You'll notice I tied Lords of Shadow into this story right at the beginning of the game. Also, Giakanokus being half fairy came from an idea I had while playing CV: Symphony of the Night because I was using a fairy familiar in a boss battle with Alucard. Then it hit me… why not have a character like that? That'd be kinda' neat. But I don't want him to be just any old fairy. So I made him a half-breed that is judged heavily by his own peers. Making him part werewolf seemed like fun so he had something in common with the main character. ANYway, now Justus will have his own familiar, lol. _ _Finally, I think I'm going to have Sinopa find the stone soon now that its intended purpose has been fulfilled. _

_OH! And what OF Alucard? Last we saw him, he was starting a metaphysical and mental change. Will it last? Will it worsen? Who knows… and what of Camilla? She touched it at the same time, maybe they didn't get the full effect – it was split up amongst them? Only time will tell. xD_


	16. Chapter 15 & 16: Doublepack

A/N: _I decided to write a lot. Also, up until now, the chapters and the updates have been off-numbered because I opened with a prologue. SO! Today, because chapter 15 was so short, I decided to do a DOUBLE UPDATE... So, here you go - this is the CHAPTER 15 AND 16 UPDATE. Enjoy._

* * *

Chapter -15-  
"_Splitting Up_"

**The sound of combat** filled Justus' ears. He felt relaxed but at the back of his mind he ached. His joints, his muscles – he hurt all over. His nose twitched, able to smell something that his subconscious mind easily recognized – the scent of adrenaline. The scent of a woman. The scent of a half-breed werewolf. He also detected the scent of a mortal man. There was another one… _another_ woman. Molly? He couldn't be sure. Yet another smell was present… a nobleman whose blood was wholly different.

Again, Justus found himself slipping in and out of consciousness.

The door at the far end of the chamber swung open. Julius Belmont and Yoko Belnades entered the room, opposite of Soma, Sinopa, Molly, Giakanokus and a man wearing a top hat, white trousers and a red blazer over a vest.

Julius narrowed his gaze. "You." He used his elbows to push back his long coat, both whips at the ready. "You've not aged a day."

The man with the top hat appeared pleased to see the aging Belmont. "My, it's been decades… for you that is."

Julius looked to the floor, seeing the last of a group of monsters fading to ashes. His gaze flitted back to his unconscious great nephew. "What happened to Justus?"

The man in the fancy blazer with petticoat shook his head. "Julius, he's fine. I earned your trust during the Great War of '99, didn't I? Trust me now and relax. Trust me as Hector and Trevor trusted me."

Belmont sighed. "It's hard to trust a man who travels through time and disappears at will. Shouldn't you go back to the 1400's, or, perhaps, to where you _belong_ in the 1800's? You shouldn't come this far in the future; you don't know enough about it and it will get you killed."

"Oh, Julius, I helped you out back in the Great War of '99. Remember? When all those military men were struck dead only to be revived as zombie creatures?"

"Yes, Germain. I remember. You told me how to separate Dracula from his power by using the power of an eclipse. For that, I will be ever grateful but… you're over a hundred and fifty years passed your days. Go back to where you've come from."

"I _had_ to come," said the man, removing his top hat. "There's a paradoxical flux in the time stream. If Alucard and Camilla are allowed to mate, their hateful offspring will change the future in a way that is unconceivable. I went further into time than I've ever journeyed before. I was disgusted to see the world broken with people starving and dying in the streets. The creature that received Dracula's powers was able to bring about the Anti-Christ, which lead to the end of all things. So I've come back little by little until I found out what's causing everything… this castle, in this time period. This cannot be allowed to happen. I theorize that your great nephew may be able to help stop this situation. Have you aged well my friend?"

Julius sighed. "I lost my memory after the fight with Dracula. I wandered the world," he explained, "headed wherever I was needed. I didn't get my memories back until 2035."

Germain nodded. "I know, I saw that but I couldn't jump in and include myself yet." His gaze moved towards everyone else in the room. "But I can tell you now… if you're not successful in driving a wedge between Alucard and Camilla… just know that it won't be a good thing." Germain sighed in a wanton way. "You do know the union of Romania with Bukovina, in 1919, was my work. They even named the treaty after _me_. Aeon wasn't overly happy that my mission resulted in history naming the treaty after me directly but… he let it slide."

Justus sat up with a groan, hand to his head. Julius turned to his great nephew and knelt to one knee. "How you holding up, kiddo?"

"Uncle J., you're okay…"

"…Yeah, kid. I'm tough, remember?"

Justus looked up at everyone then back to Julius. In a quieter voice, he asked, "Who's the guy with the top hat?"

Julius lifted his voice, replying, "He's the guy that helped me find Jonny Morris as an old man. I got the Vampire Killer from the Morris family, and, with the help of the twins, Stella and Loretta Lecarde, I was able to tap into the whip's imprint of Richter Belmont and unlock its true potential." His expression turned stoic upon mentioning Eric Lecarde's twin daughters.

"What's wrong, Uncle J.?"

Germain put a hand on Julius' shoulder as the aged vampire hunter stood, slowly. He took his top hat off with his other gloved hand and told Justus, "Young man, the Lecarde Twins were in their seventies when they helped your uncle. They had to combine their abilities to unlock the true form of the Vampire Killer for your then-nineteen-year-old Uncle; their children didn't know how to perform the ritual. They were there to witness it. While Julius was unconscious, proving his worth to Richter's memory imprint inside of the whip, the twins were dying from using the last of their energy. The children were distraught, watching their parents die. Johnny Morris and his wife, Charlotte, watched in horror. Loretta's husband, who was eighty-one, died a week later after witnessing his wife pass. Everyone except Jonathan and Charlotte blamed Julius. He was inside the castle during the sisters' funeral, also misunderstood by the Lecarde family – they saw it as furthering the insult and were angry. Not everyone understood everything."

Germain changed his tone in an attempt to change the subject. "Did you know that Julius did something no _other_ Belmont ever did?"

Justus frowned, coming to his feet with the help of his uncle. "You mean separate Dracula from his castle and defeat him for good?" He approached Molly and offered her a wordless hug, she returned the gesture, glad to see him although she appeared confused to see him in his human form.

Germain placed the top hat back upon his head. "No, Julius raised an _ARMY_ and brought the entire group to Dracula's castle."

Julius smirked, looking back at the youthful Justus. "Unlike my family, and unlike the Lecarde family, there actually were people who thought I wasn't crazy. With Richter being the last Belmont to fight Dracula, he laid down the whip for good in 1799. It took _two hundred years_ before another Belmont touched that whip. So, of course they thought I was crazy. It only took two hundred years for people to forget about our family lineage."

Justus relinquished the hug with Molly and said, "A company of soldiers?"

The old Belmont shook his head with a chuckle. "No, kid. A _Batallion_. A _thousand_ soldiers. History forgot _real_ quick. Even though I had the backing of Pope John Paul II, who provided me with a quarter of my soldiers, his successor, Benedict XVI covered it up. By Christmas of 2005, you couldn't even find information on the Great War of 1999 on the internet anymore. It was covered up by a lot of people and, when I lost my memory, no one even helped me to figure out what I'd done. Benedict ran the show differently. I was considered a crazy guy for a while. I spent six months in an asylum once. My own family members told their only son that their great Uncle was clearly insane."

Justus swallowed. "But they told me to have respect for you, despite labeling you as a 'crazy old man'. And I do or I wouldn't have come out here with you."

"Touché." Julius smiled. He turned to Molly and put his left hand beneath her chin, lifting her head to look at her face in the light. "So… you're a Florescu. How does it feel to be tied to history?"

"I don't feel very historical," she murmured. "I'm a bum. I make money by delivering illegal packages across the Romanian countryside. I'm no one special."

Julius chuckled and shook his head. "You don't even _know_, do you?" He waited but she didn't answer. His eyes lifted to Yoko then back to Molly. "Kid, you're a mortal relative of Vlad Tepes. You're great grandfather helped to start the Romanian Revolution of 1989, killing eleven hundred people to help overthrow the communist Romanian government. That was both good and bad. It provided just enough malice and conflict to start Dracula's return to the living by providing a lot of blood. A thousand dead people are more than enough. At the same time, it cleared the country a decade before Nostradamus' prediction that Dracula would rise to ultimate power leading up to the change of the Millennia in late 1999. The new government was all-too-happy to let me walk in there with a battalion of mercenaries and start a war… so if it wasn't for your great grandfather, I wouldn't have been allowed to march up to that castle with armed help. It was weird."

Sinopa sighed loud enough to catch everyone's attention. "Droning on about historical prattle isn't what I'm here to do." She turned to Molly and said. "We found you, we saved you from those _things_ that were surrounding you. I understand that you're the keeper of The Diamond. I require it and will pay you twice what your hiring party would pay. You can easily tell them that you lost it when you became trapped in this castle. No one has to know. I wish to keep it from people like the beings in this castle. Once I have it, I will leave and keep it safe. Where is it?"

"It was taken. I ran into a man who _had_ it. He was a little out of sorts… he said he '_didn't need it anymore_' so he left it behind. I wish to find it… but if I find it first, I accept your offer of paying double. All the damn trouble it's brought… I'd be all too happy to know it's out of these walls. But you can't leave… there's fallout out there."

"That doesn't concern me," said Sinopa with a smirk.

"Let's help Miss Crevan find her diamond," said Soma. "If we all split up into groups, we can cover more of the castle in a shorter amount of time. The sooner we get that diamond out of here, the sooner we can figure out what to do about Alucard and Camilla. Once that's settled, we can all go home. I'm growing tired of this place. I thought I was done with it once and for all."

"We all feel that way," said Yoko with a nod of agreement. She approached the slightly younger man and hugged him. "It's good to see you again. Hammer is down in the courtyard with his van and the Turkish Prime Minister. I believe he also has Mister James Johnson with him."

Sinopa snorted. "The purgatory librarian? He's one of very few mortals to have been trapped in the chaotic realm by accident. He's been here since the eighteen hundreds."

Germain frowned. "I'll take Mister Johnson back to his correct time so that when he leaves here, he doesn't disturb the flow of time by accident. To be clear, is anyone _else_ here from a time _other_ than 2044?" No one replied. Germain smiled. "Good. I'll head for the courtyard. Does anyone else wish to accompany me?"

Yoko nodded. "Hammer is down there, protecting two people without backup. I'll go with you to ensure nothing else gets in or out of the main gates. I'll also monitor the strength of the magic seal protecting the castle. Should it fail, we'll all be sick with radiation poisoning. If it weakens, I'll be the first to know and will contact the rest of you. If we must, I'll create a barrier and get us away from the castle as a group. My 'umbrella' is only so powerful so… I'm talking about a last-ditch effort. If _any_ of you need anything… supplies from Hammer or help from _me_, I'll be setting up my own 'shop' in the courtyard. Make sure you come by and what whatever it is that you need."

Julius announced, "The teleportation pads are working again. We saw four monk-like men performing some sort of incantation or ritual upstairs. If anyone crosses their path, becareful. They're powerful magic users. Get help immediately."

Giakanokus frowned. "They're casting a spell that would ultimately control the minds of Alucard and Camilla."

Germain nodded in reply to the man with the fabric face cover. "He's correct. Those men are priests who seek to revive an evil presence within the walls of this castle. Unlike ancestors of their order, these men are doing something a little more sinister than the founders of their dark order."

Julius eyed the time jumper. "Founders?"

"These men," said Germain, "Are modern day versions of Shaft, Barlowe and Rohan Krause. The order has no true name. Some refer to them as the Order of Shadows. They often renamed their order, as Barlowe did, calling it 'Ecclesia' and, at times, the order fooled its own followers to traverse dark roads without their knowledge."

Yoko tilted her head. "I've heard of Barlowe's name but don't know anything about him."

Giakanokus shrugged. "History is written by the winners. The Order of Ecclesia was lost to time. Barlowe was far madder than his predecessors, Rohan and Shaft. He sought to use his disciples to awaken Dracula and use a glyph of immense power to imprison Dracula and confine him so that he, himself, could become all-powerful. He got one of the disciples killed, a young man named Albus. The young man, post-humus, managed to merge his soul with the glyph so that his sister, Shanoa, could live. She never spoke of the incident. Very few know of it."

Silence. Finally, Justus said, "It's like you guys have your own little history that you keep to yourselves. I'm not sure I can follow all this stuff." He cut his eyes to Sinopa. "Let's just stop talking about it, like Miss Crevan asked." He licked his lips. "It was 'Crevan', right?"

"Yes, you are correct," said the kitsune. "We have a plan, everyone. Saint Germain will escort Yoko to the courtyard and take James Johnson from the castle. This place grows in power when innocent blood is spilled. One less innocent on the field means more of a chance of success for the rest of us. Giakanokus and I shall search for the diamond. Justus will go with us temporarily. Molly, here, is susceptible to Dracula's essence – a mere attack would be almost deadly to her, so she will go with us for protection. Once Justus transforms and is able to protect her, the four of us will split into two teams to cover more of the castle. Meanwhile, Julius should continue on to help us cover more surface area. I recommend that Soma Cruz accompany him. Having teams is critical to success."

"I can do it alone," said Julius.

Sinopa narrowed her eyes at Belmont. "You're a delightfully delicious male specimen but you're also stubborn as hell."

"Yeah, I am."

"Yes," Yoko agreed, "He is."

The kitsune sighed. "Jonathan and Charlotte, Stella and Loretta, Eric and John, Richter and Maria…" she paused for effect. "Trevor certainly knew the value of teamwork."

Yoko approached Julius. "Remember when you and I joined forces with Alucard and we stormed the castle in 2036?"

"We thought Soma had become Dracula at that point."

"Yes but we were a team." Yoko smiled weakly. "You can ensure that Soma doesn't run into any problems. Plus, we all know he's quite capable. The two of you would make a great team."

Julis glanced to Cruz, who shrugged in reply. Finally, Belmont nodded. "Fine, I'll take Soma with me." He turned towards Crevan and said, "If anything happens to my nephew, I'll be _pissed off_, you understand? I'd honestly rather he came with me."

Giakanokus chimed in. "As a familiar, I would like the opportunity to teach him about his gift. Once he's able to transform we can always switch teams. At that point, Soma can accompany me and you can fight alongside of your nephew. Whichever you prefer. I simply want to teach him about his lycan side."

"It's okay, Uncle J.," said Justus. "I'm a fast learner."

Julius nodded. "Okay, kid. If we're not out of here by the time you learn how to become an animal then I want to show you what being a Belmont is all about. Got it?"

"Even if we get out of here in the next hour, I know enough about the Belmont clan, now, to accept your tutelage. Someone has to pass on the whip. I'm finding out that I should probably have kids one day so I can pass it on."

Julius nodded towards Molly. "Don't have kids with _her_. She's extremely susceptible to harm from Dracula and his ilk. Mixing that sort of weakness into the Belmont bloodline would be _very_ bad. We wouldn't be as proficient at doing our _job_."

Molly frowned, looking down. Justus sighed and shook his head. "Let's just… split up and find this Alucard guy. Okay?"

Julius turned to Soma then nodded towards the nearest door. "Come on, Dracula. Let's go find your 'son'." He left the room. Soma shook his head, offered nothing more to say and left after the aging Belmont.

Yoko shook her head as well and said, "Well… _he's_ in a particularly _FINE_ mood. And by _fine_ I mean he's being a complete…"

"Jerk," murmured Justus.

"Asshole," said Molly in unison.

"Amusing," murmured Giakanokus a moment later. "He's a business man and this castle is his workspace. He feels like an upper-level manager who is now on some sort of timeline. He feels that his protégé may not be receiving 'proper' training from _me_ and he doesn't like having to babysit another because he dispises his leadership abilities."

"Why?" asked Justus.

Giakanokus frowned. "He led a thousand men to Castle Dracula. He led a _thousand men_ to their _death_. He felt like he failed them as a leader. So, when he came back in 2035, he fought alone. He survived. To him it was proof that he does better alone than he does in tandem with another. He doesn't want to be responsible for the death of others so he'd rather fight his battles without help." He turned towards Yoko and added, "Remember, a year later, when he left you at the castle gates? He only came back for your help when he realized that he couldn't get any further into the castle without the power of magic seals. Trust me, he wasn't happy to work with people other than himself. Anyhow, we've all reached an agreement on the plan. Let's execute it, shall we?"

Sinopa grinned. "You don't _need_ to be here. Your reconnaissance is finished. Why stay?"

The masked gentleman smiled in a mysterious way. "Because you're cute, Miss Crevan."

She grinned in return. "Sinopa." She turned to Molly and Justus. "Come along, children. It's time for a fieldtrip through Dracula's citadel. Think of it as a scavenger hunt!" She opened a door opposite from the one that Julius and Soma used a moment prior.

Yoko turned to Germain. "Lead the way, sir." The couple left the hall in a different direction. Silence resumed in the corridor while the torches on the wall flickered softly, casting lively shadows throughout the area.

Alucard stepped from a patch of shade with a smirk. "Me? With Camilla? Interesting that they have time guardians helping them. Hmm…" His expression broadened to a smile. "And the hunt is on… This should prove quite interesting."

* * *

X

**Hammer clenched his teeth together** as the rapid muzzle discharge illuminated his face. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion to him. Hyper focused, the ex-pat kept his hands steady on the weapon. He strafed to the left, trying to keep the weapon's focused spray pattern at hip-height.

The creatures in the doorway were pushing the bodies of their fallen comrades forward, using the fallen demons as a body shield. Hammer inhaled through his teeth and grumbled to himself. "Smart lil' bastards." He thumbed a switch on the handle; the ammo drum fell from the gun handle and bounced on the stone ground. Hammer pulled a fresh magazine from his belt and slapped it home with a satisfying click. He brought his left hand up, jerked back on the sliding mechanism and the gun began firing again.

Johnson looked up from his spot, cowering behind the Turkish Prime Minister. "I don't know what's scarier, that noise or those _things_ coming through the door!"

"Just hold tight, I've got a _lot_ of ammo!" shouted Hammer. He gritted his teeth again, laying into the horde as it advanced behind the wall of dying flesh, using the fallen pawns to continue forward. "This is _nuts_, man!" He reached his left hand back and withdrew the automatic shotgun slung over his shoulder. "The P90 didn't work, the M-16 isn't working…" he grumbled, dropping another high-capacity ammo drum to the pavement. "But maybe…" Hammer dropped the assault rifle and pulled up his Jackhammer shotgun. "…_this_ might work!"

The shotgun roared to life, causing James Johnson to bring both hands to his ears and cower again. "Christ Almighty! It's a handheld CANNON!"

Buckshot pelted the creatures, splattering blood around the doorway. John Hammer kept his right hand tight on the handle while pushing his left fist into his satchel. He felt around for another ammo drum, but one with a glossy label on one side. He found it by feeling for the smooth textured sticker on the side then pulled it free. "I've got some _white phosphorous_ rounds RIGHT HERE, you sons of bitches!"

He continued spraying buckshot erratically over the creatures in the doorframe. The buckshot that penetrated the body shield caused screams of pain but the enemies continued through the doorway behind their fallen brethren at an alarming rate. Once the last round fired from the gun, he ejected the drum and crammed the new one into place.

John took four steps forward and opened fire. Flames spewed from the re-tempered muzzle, engulfing the enemies and the doorway in white-hot flames. Buckshot loaded into the cartridges were vaporized before they could hit the targets, making the automatic shotgun resemble a flamethrower instead. The barrel of the weapon began to glow. Hammer let off the trigger and mumbled. "Don't want my baby's barrel to distort… can't have that, no sir." He watched almost gleefully as the creatures burned, stuck in the doorway.

All at once an explosion occurred, littering the courtyard in body parts. Hammer thrust his left fist into the air then jerked it back down, shouting, "YEAH!"

The fire seemed to burn itself out in a matter of seconds on the stone framework around the door. The wooden double doors were gone by this point. Stalking through the ashes and debris, Yoko Belnades had her left hand out and her famous scepter thrust forward, acting as a torch. It lit up the doorframe. A man in a top hat followed her into the area, remarking mostly to himself. "Impressive display of magic, madam. You're an arsonists dreamgirl."

Hammer blinked. "No, she's _my_ dream girl!" He saw Yoko cut her eyes to her mate with confusion. Not wanting to come off as jealous, Hammer cleared his throat and in a friendly voice, said, "Hi dream girl!" to her, sounding almost jovial in a way. "Stealing my thunder again? I lit those things up… you had to go and blow'em apart, didn't you?"

Yoko smiled at his teasing and approached the tall dark-skinned man. "Germain, this is my betrothed. John Hammer." She redirected her voice towards Hammer and said, "This is a time guardian. It's difficult to explain but… he's here to help. He'll start by taking James Johnson back to his proper time, outside of the chaotic realm. We may see him again later on."

Germain grinned. "Or maybe I'll show up here from three directions in time and help myself help you guys." He tipped his hat to Hammer then added, "That could result in a Mobius strip with the cross section of a prism if I do say so myself."

"I'm a scientist and a witch. I'm afraid your …whatever you've just said… it goes over my head."

"No matter. I create paradoxes and I fix them. For now, it's time to fix one." He passed Hammer and stopped to look at the van in an appreciative way. "I love the future horseless carriages. They're just amazing technology." He peered around the corner at the Prime Minister and James Johnson. "Which one of you was born in the 1800's?"

Johnson looked up and rubbed the side of his head. "Aren't we all?"

Germain smiled brightly. "Sure!" He opened a golden portal and took James by the shoulder. "C'mon, chap! In ya' go!"

"Wait, where are we…?" James was thrust into the portal and Germain followed. It closed in on itself and disappeared.

The Prime Minister's eyes widened. He turned to Hammer for answers. "What just happened? Where is the little balding man?"

Yoko sighed. "It's a long story. We need to figure out how to get you _out_ of this castle before someone drops another warhead on the seal. I don't want to be trapped in here any longer than I have to be." She turned back to Hammer. "I'm staying here with you, John. At least for a while. I've decided to set up a little magic shop; don't worry, though, there's no competition."

"Oh yeah? What'cha going to sell, sweetheart?"

She grinned. "Well, I'm working on taking a collection of souls given to me by Soma, some things I've found in the castle like Shiitake mushrooms and other things… and I'm going to start crafting spells and potions. I'll need a pot that can handle a cooking fire under it… I'll need something to contain a small fire and something that will burn slowly. I've got my work cut out for me if I intend to help everyone else."

"You're going to _cook_? I… I've never seen you cook _anything_."

Her grin disappeared. "Just because I don't make fancy food doesn't mean I don't know how to conjure potions and…" She stopped, looking exasperated for a moment. Belnades took a deep breath and frowned. "Sorry. There's nothing 'domestic' about me – I don't even own a house." Before Hammer could say anything, she turned away from him and walked into the adjacent stable to try and find supplies.

He turned towards the Turkish man and shrugged. "Women, huh?"

"Yes, my friend… Women can be very interesting and emotional. Perhaps she's bipolar?"

"Nah. She's just got a hard life out in the real world. She can go from happy to upset and back to civil or happy in a split second but… she holds grudges. The only bipolar person I ever knew couldn't hold grudges because they'd only be upset with someone until something good happened then they switched back to being pleasant like it was a button or something."

"I…" The worldly leader shook his head. "I'm sure that for many bipolar people in the world, holding grudges can go hand-in-hand. Are you _sure_ she's okay?"

"Look, man, she's a great girl. She's just intense sometimes."

"Fair enough, Mister Hammer. Any woman that can wield fire, lightning and ice the way she does… I would agree, she is 'intense'. It's a bit intimidating to me."

John shrugged and picked up the M-16. He started reloading all his weapons. "You get used to it, bud."

* * *

X

* * *

Chapter -16-  
"_Back in Action_"

**Justus rubbed at the back of his neck**, occasionally sliding his hands up through his hair to rub at where his 'ears' used to protrude. "If you're a 'fire' elemental," he said to Sinopa, "then how did you electrocute me?"

"Just because I have mastery over one element doesn't mean I don't practice other ones out of hobby." She glanced back at Justus, deadpanned then told him, "Elvis Presley played the guitar, the piano, and the drums… but he was famous for singing."

The teenager offered a weary nod. "Okay, I understand. You're a jack of all trades but a master at one."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her face. "Cute… but accurate." She glanced over at Molly and asked, "Did Julius insult you? You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm just along for the ride," she said with a sigh. "I really don't care what the old man says. I'm a loner and don't need to dabble into the whole 'bestiality' thing. That's not my speed."

Justus looked away with a frown. Sinopa also dropped the subject, returning her attention to Giakanokus. The two spoke amongst themselves quietly while Molly and Justus walked side-by-side several feet behind them. Bell quietly said to her, "I know I deserve that but, just to be clear, my uncle cured my father. Typically this curse is a dormant gene and only surfaces every few generations. I was just unlucky and got it right after dad – again, it's curable. We came to this country to gather stuff we'd need to make the cure."

"Sorry if I came off as harsh. I'm grateful you've helped me in the past and I'm sorry I shot you earlier… but for your uncle to _assume_ that I would want to hook up with you… I mean, come on, we've only just met." She shook her head and changed topic. "How's the gunshot?"

"A lady named Yoko was able to patch me up and do some sort of healing _thing_. She sealed the wound and did some sort of magic trick." He lifted his shirt, showing her what looked like a gunshot wound that could have been several years old. "Looks like it happened when I was a kid or something but… that's the mark." He twisted at the hip and showed her the other mark on his back. "That's where it came out."

Molly rubbed her left temple. "This place just gets weirder and weirder… if people have that ability why can't doctors do it?"

"I wish I knew," said the ex-werewolf with a frown. "I was just getting used to being that thing, too. Honestly, I feel safer and more sure of myself when I change."

"Fair enough." She stuffed her right hand into her shoulder bag as if it were an enormous pocket. "Do you really think that lady can get me a lot of money?"

Justus chuckled. "Having seen all the stuff I've seen in the last day or two… yeah, I'm starting to believe it." He glanced back at her and nodded in a reassuring way. "I honestly believe she can get you serious money for your diamond."

"Good. I want to retire from being a freelance messenger girl. It's dangerous, it's cold in the wintertime and it's miserable. I could use the money."

"I could help you get started in England after all of this craziness stops."

She smiled slightly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, everywhere is hiring right now. You're bilingual so you could easily find a good paying job. Employers pay extra for that depending on what they need you for."

"You make it sound nice." She lifted her eyes back to the two supernatural people in front. "I'm impressed and disgusted at the same time," she murmured with a nod towards Sinopa. The kitsune had her hands behind her back. She wiggled her fingertips, creating intricately designed flames in the shapes of everything from a flower to a butterfly. The dancing flames would rise up, take form then disappear again. However, the woman's posture was a grotesquely feminine one, looking as though she were completely enchanted by Giakanokus. "See how she's walking like that and has her hands behind her back and is appearing to hang onto every word he says? Yeah… girls don't do that stuff in real life. They do it to play with men's affections. Right now, he feels like he's got her wrapped around his finger but in truth… she's baiting him – I think she wants to have her way with him."

They watched the couple up ahead. Giakanokus opened his arms, gesturing in unison to his words while the two engaged in conversation. He opened his arms to express something of immense nature and she offered a faux swoon in reply. Justus had to agree it was a little strange, considering the two had just met. "He seems comfortable with her."

"He wants to get laid," Molly said. "He's a man, she's a woman who wants control and, most likely, she wants to get laid, too."

"Well, I see what you mean now. They're flirting pretty hard with one another."

Quite suddenly, Sinopa glanced over her shoulder and offered a knowing grin at the younger couple. She quickly returned her attention to the man with the half-mask over his nose. The look made both Justus and Molly feel awkward. Fields whispered to Justus, "Do you think she can hear us?"

"I was wondering the same thing," he murmured in return. "Don't let her bother you – she's just eye-candy."

"…Who can throw fireballs," said Molly with a frown. "I wonder what the other guy looks like without the noseband covering half of his face."

The castle shook, causing Justus to blink. The conversation was forgotten and he reached for the sword he'd purchased from Hammer earlier. "I hope that wasn't another bomb."

Giakanokus shook his head. "No, I think you'll find it's time to learn how to be yourself again, though."

Justus glanced at the now-quiet Molly then back up at the other couple. "You mean being a monster again?"

Sinopa turned about with a brilliant smile. "Oh, dear, a werewolf isn't a monster. A beast, perhaps, but not a 'monster'. However, the thing that just shook these walls? It must know we're passing through this vestibule, dear… mm, _that_ creature certainly deserves the term, 'monster'. I was sort of hoping we wouldn't have disturbed it."

Molly clenched her jaw tightly. "Disturbed _what_ …spit it out, lady… _what_ did we disturb?"

Without warning the wall, further up the hall, shattered into chunks of stone, granite and basalt. The pieces were strewn across the floor followed by an ear-splitting roar. All four of them put their hands over their ears from the sonic sound. The roar became amplified as the creature neared the gaping hole in the wall down the hall – its shadow loomed forth, across the floor, just ahead. As its roar intensified, all four people were knocked to the ground. They continued to hold their ears for another moment until the long-winded cry concluded.

Justus sat up, half dizzy from the volume of the sound. "WHAT THE FU—" His exclamation was cut off by a snort that was louder than an airplane engine at takeoff. He mouthed a vituperative string of curse words but it went unheard by the creature's lumbering sounds.

"Bahamut," said Sinopa between loud breaths expelled by the creature around the corner. The shadow crawled across the floor then up along the facing wall. A behemoth bull-like creature lumbered through the opening in the crumbling section of the wall. It turned to the left, coming to face the quartet. Sinopa was the first to her feet. "If anyone has a weak stomach, you'd better turn-" Her words went unheard at the end from another loud noise that came from the creature.

The enormous horned bull continued into the hallway, dragging its lower body behind itself. Flesh and fur were rotting at the torso, displaying its ribcage. Behind it, the creature's entrails left a slimy trail, laden with maggots on the floor. Its lower spine dragged the ground, creating a scraping noise somewhat similar to fingernails on a chalkboard.

It stopped to look at them then expelled steamy hot air from its nose. Justus stood up, along with Molly and Giakanokus. The teenager shook his head slowly. "He's got to be almost two stories tall. What did this to him and why didn't they finish it?"

Molly ribbed Justus in his side. "You idiot, someone _did_ kill it. Just like those zombies, things come back to life in this god-forsaken castle."

Justus couldn't think of anything to add. He put the sword back into its sheath and frowned. "How do we …? How do we _fight_ that thing? Sinopa? Can you set it on fire?"

Creven glanced back at him over her shoulder, leering at the teen. "That thing is so rotted it's probably liable to torch itself if it rubs up against a chandelier – do you _really_ want a two story undead fireball barreling down the hallway at us?"

A sigh. "Point taken," said Bell, unable to take his eyes off the enormous creature ahead of them. It didn't move, as if watching to see what its prey would do next. It huffed through its nose much like a bull. "How is this stuff even _real_?"

Giakanokus simply said, "It's mentioned in the Book of Job, 40:15-24. They described it as being more… aquatic… Then again, not _every_ detail in the Bible is completely accurate; it was written by _fallible mortal men_."

Sinopa nodded in agreement. "Too true."

"I, uh… only go to church on the holidays," said Justus, adding, "Does the bible say how to kill this thing?"

"Of course not." The man with the noseband smiled somewhat then said, "It's time to teach you what being a were-beast is all about."

"You going to show me how it's done?"

Giakanokus chuckled. "I'm going to tell _you_ how to _get it done_. Start by inducing pain. You might be in mortal danger but the transformation doesn't occur unless you perceive pain."

"How… do I manage to injure myself?"

"Anyway you wish," said the man. "Many clench their hands into fists because driving your fingernails into your palms will work quite well. Especially since you'll have paw pads grow in its place, which heals the wounds immediately."

"I'm not sure you should send in the newbie, here." Justus looked back at Molly then over towards Sinopa. They both remained quiet. He fidgeted nervously for a moment then sighed. "Okay, fine. If I can turn, I'll do it." He tightened his forearms and balled his fists up so hard that his fingernails began to make his palms bleed. The pain caused his heart rate to spike. The sensation caused his adrenaline to saturate his blood. The pain in his palms hurt like hell but then became forgotten over a fresh sensation of pain in his lower spine, his ankles, his jaw, the top of his head and joints. It was similar to what he'd been experiencing almost all week.

As Justus Bell watched the lumbering creature, he noticed it appeared more _colorful_ to him. The entire world began to grow more vibrant – he could see color distinction better, unlike normal animals. Sound became muddled momentarily as his ear canals rerouted to the protruding triangles that poked through his hair. He felt his teeth shifting – it was like a dentist grinding a drill against his molars and front teeth.

He tried to stand tall and deal with the pain like a man but it wasn't something he was used to. As his ankles began to change, Bell dropped to the ground, hands and knees. He curled his tongue back, away from his teeth as fangs came in. His nose bled from the shifting of his sinus cavities; his nasal passages shifted and changed dramatically.

A groan escaped his throat but it shifted in mid moan to a guttural growl, sounding quite feral in nature. The pain in his lower spine became immense as the tail came in, forced to grow down into his left pant leg. The fabric became constricting around his arms and legs. His torso enlarged from a painful growth in his ribcage. The enlarging of his lungs initially left him feeling somewhat winded.

The crotch of his pants became painful from his enlarging hip, groin and the muscular thickening of his thighs. His knees and ankles caused an unpleasant cracking sound. His feet changed in shape, feeling as though he'd just been caned on his heels. The pants ripped, releasing some of the pressure. He drew in a deep, fresh breath of air and shouted in pain but the scream was foreign sounding… it was instead replaced by the howl of a wolf.

Molly brought her hands to her ears while Sinopa smiled brightly in satisfaction. Giakanokus folded his arms across his chest, watching the transformation with interest. His eyes remained stoic while focusing on Justus to monitor his transition.

Bell's pants split again in the back, allowing part of his tail to become free along the inseam. His palms no longer bled but his claws grew in from a rapid extension of his fingernails, causing the cuticles to become spotty with red droplets. As his muzzle formed, his gums bled lightly but it was enough for him to taste the salty, metallic liquid on his tongue. Saliva dribbled down over his now-fuzzy chin. The drool helped to wash away the taste of blood but it went forward, over his front teeth, dripping to the floor.

Hair on the back of his neck bristled up – the sensation was electrifying. But after a moment the sensation could be felt _everywhere_ from head to toe. His shirt ripped at the shoulders, the sleeves and the down the back until it was in tatters. Another split in his pants caused the trousers to shred from the back belt loop all the way down his right leg. They remained intact around his ankles.

He reached for the floor, to try and stop the vertigo. The world was spinning around him briefly and he needed to grab onto something. Inadvertently, Justus drove his claws into the floor, leaving gouges in the stone surface.

The behemoth bull-like creature moved forward slowly, sniffing at the air to try and determine what was going on and why his prey looked vulnerable. Its head lowered, it scraped a hoof along the floor then, without further warning, it charged. Horns lowered, the bull headbutted Justus with incredible force. The British teenager was launched upwards, lodged into the wall about fifteen feet above the floor. He remained stuck within, motionless.

"Not a good time," said Sinopa to the other male. "You should have had him transform half an hour ago. Why now? It left him prone to attack."

"Just wait," said Giakanokus. He lifted his arms towards the women, guiding them to back up. "Give this thing some room – we need to protect the human girl."

Molly looked back down from where Justus was stuck in the wall and shouted, "I have a name, asshole! Are you just going to leave Justus stuck up there?"

Sinopa sighed and guided Molly back. "I admire your feisty spirit, girl, but you need to move back. Come, this way." She led Molly Fields across the room to the back corner of the hall, twenty-five feet from the behemoth bull.

Frustrated that Justus was hurt… or worse… she reached into her recently regain satchel, drew out her revolver and fired it. Both the kitsune vixen and the half-breed familiar put their hands over their ears. The round struck the bull in one of his eyes, causing her target to splatter. The bloody splash of crimson stained the bull's face. It bellowed in anger, throwing its head listlessly from left to right. The walls on either side were knocked down and a crack ran across the ceiling.

All at once, part of the ceiling collapsed, flattening the bull into the floor. A hole above made it easy to see into the room upstairs but a cloud of dust and debris rose up until it was difficult to see much of anything in the hallway.

The dust settled and the behemoth bull was motionless under the pile of stone pieces. Sinopa and Giakanokus looked on with a measure of surprise. "The bull dispatched itself," said the man quietly. He looked back up at the wall and frowned. "We have to get him out of there."

"You're welcome, Goddammit," grumbled Molly. She shoved the gun back in her back and shouted, "JUSTUS!" She blinked, hearing a soft groan from above. "He's not dead!"

"Neither is that thing," replied Sinopa. "I don't smell adrenaline anymore – I think he's dazed under all that rubble." She turned towards the pile and leaned towards it. Her five soft tails swished about behind the kitsune female as she focused on sensing its life energy. "It's conscious, for sure, but stunned. We don't have long to get Justus out of that wall." She turned back towards Bell and gestured with her hand towards Molly. "Stay back. That thing could snap out of it at any moment."

"Maybe it's being weighed down by the stone and debris."

Giakanokus shook his head. "Miss Fields, that 'thing' is all muscle and filled with undead motivation. Fazed, maybe… But being trapped is highly unlikely. We don't have much time." He turned back to face Justus and thrust his fingertips into the wall, scaling it calmly.

Sinopa frowned thoughtfully. "We're wasting time by toying with creatures like this bull…_thing_. The longer it takes, the less likely we are to find Tamamo-no-Mae's Sessho-seki."

Giakanokus continued up the wall then braced himself adjacent to where Justus was embedded within. "Sinopa, Hoji no longer haunts the Killing Stone. Genno managed to calm the spirit."

Sinopa narrowed her eyes. "I know that, dumbass. But an essence of power was left within that diamond. I require it to get it out of the mortal realm."

Molly threw her arms outwards. "Whatever the hell you two are talking about, _who cares_. Let's get Justus out of there and get the hell out of _here_!"

Crevan smiled. "Like the girl said, we should get the boy and leave before that thing…" The rubble began to shift as the creature grunted. Sinopa brought her palm to her face with a sigh of frustration. "_Chikushoume_." She balled her fists up with a frown. "Fuzakennayo," she added at the end, grumbling under her breath. Sinopa cleared her throat then, in a sweet voice, called up to Giakanokus. "Obviously, from up there you can see that our little friend is waking up from his _all-too-brief_ nap. Let's go."

Giakanokus glanced over his shoulder then back at Justus. He was apparently holding a conversation with the newly transformed werewolf, which made Molly feel better, regardless of the creature starting to get up onto its two front hooves. The rubble continued to shift, falling away from the creature's body.

Sinopa ran her fingers back through her hair. Her small triangular fox ears lay back in her hair, a sign of her aggravation. She approached Molly, further down the hall and lifted her right palm. A thin wall of flames lifted from the floor, creating a barrier. She kept it thin so as to keep it from being too bright. It illuminated their faces but moved around the women in a protective way. Molly brought a hand up to protect her eyes from the heat emanating from the thin orange wall.

The behemoth pulled itself from the crumbling rubble then let out an angry bellow. It was loud enough to ripple the flame shield. The semi-forked hallway was coated in a fresh layer of dust that came from the remaining ceiling. Sinopa folded her arms, looking angry. "I wish he would hurry up. There's no reason he has to teach Justus how to fight with a creature like _that_."

"I think we're on the same page," said the other girl. "Miss Crevan, I hate to bring this up now but… since we have a moment to just stand here together… how do you plan on paying me?"

"In gold, obviously. Something you can change over to money. I don't carry paper money or credit cards, dear."

"I've heard that 'kitsune' use leaves, twigs and rocks than create an illusion of…"

Sinopa turned towards her. "First of all, it's _not_ pronounced 'kit sue nay' young lady. It's pronounced, 'keets nay.' Two syllables. _Kitsune_," she repeated herself at the end, "Keets…nay. Got it? Good. Second of all, Lord Inari Daimyojin is the kami of fertility, rice, agriculture, foxes, industry and worldly success. Inari's kitsune are pure white and act as his messengers. Do you see me wearing a red votive bib? No. You damn well don't. For all you know, I could be a Kumiho, a Huli Jing, a Barguest… But let's just say, for the sake of argument, I'm actually Japanese under this human guise. _Why_ do you think I would trick you? You're helping me to obtain something I _need_. Having it taken from me was an _immense loss_. Having _your help_ in finding it is something my kind takes very seriously. We go _out of our way_ to help those who help us."

"Is that the only reason you're here?" she asked, adding, "Miss Crevan, please understand that I'm not questioning your motives… I just don't understand them."

Sinopa glared through the flames, watching the bull come to its senses by shaking off the remaining debris from its body. "I came for my star ball. I met Julius Belmont and am trying to trick him into sleeping with me by telling him that the Belmont's power is waning and it needs to be infused with a fresh shot of supernatural power. Would I have his child? Sure, the Belmont line is a prestigious name in the ever-dwindling supernatural community. But _now_ I'm eyeing _him_," she nodded up towards Giakanokus. "He's cute, he's strong and he's more personable than Julius. I like to converse with a man, not just lay down for him. I want a man who can engage my mind as much as my body. Julius isn't much of a talker. But, in the end, I want my diamond back. I'd chosen that one in 1999. It's an important diamond and I've made it mine for the last forty-some years. I want it back."

Molly offered a moue of disgust. "You're trying to sleep with two men?"

"Listen, mesuinu, I'm not some… some… shikima…" She trailed off, looking somewhat flustered. "…Yariman." Sinopa huffed, rolling her left wrist to try and gesture with her hand. "I'm not… some horny slut. The kitsune are a positive race of spirit messengers. We make faithful guardians, friends, lovers and wives. Trading information and culture ideas with the Chinese and the Koreans – that's where the kitsune got its negative attributes. We are playful and we toy with the rich and the greedy but trust me, when I give you gold… you'll feel the weight and take it to the bank and they'll give you _real_ money for it. Are we now on the same page?"

"Sorry, it's just difficult for me to trust anyone because…" The bull broke into a sudden charge, causing both women to turn around. With a wave of Sinopa's hand, the flames parted like a curtain, allowing Molly to watch with wide eyes.

Quite suddenly, Justus leapt from the wall, leaving Giakanokus hanging up on the stone bulkhead alone. The full-blooded werewolf dove his claws into the enormous bull's skull. With nauseating ease, he ripped one of its long horns free then turned about and drove the entire horn through the bull's neck. It erupted from the creature's throat, spurting coagulated blood on the floor.

Justus hopped down onto the beast's back, took the horn still jutting up from the back of its neck then kicked the bloody horn so hard that it tore through the neck, causing the head to become detached from the body. The enormous head hit the ground, shifting from the weight of the one remaining horn. The body continued forward from momentum, tripping over its disconnected head. Justus leapt towards the wall and, like Giakanokus, drove his claws into the bricks, holding on. The bull slammed into another wall and dropped, motionless.

The body began to rapidly decompose, leaving a twisted leathery husk on the floor adjacent to a bloody skull. The organs, eyes and brain began to age at an accelerated rate as if entropy increased in an instant. The gnarled remains smoldered then, at the end of the seemingly melodramatic moment, a single wisp of steam fizzled up from the remains.

Sinopa removed the shield and Molly hurried out towards the werewolf, unable to tear her eyes from the dust and decay on the floor. "Did that thing just… melt then fizzle out?"

"I think so…" Justus turned to her, a frown tugging at his newly re-formed muzzle. "I'm a freak again."

She placed her palm on the side of his maw. "I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I won't shoot you again."

"Heh." He pushed a fang against his lower lip then his eyes went to the floor. "I appreciate it. I should probably get some fresh clothes."

"Just wear something baggy next time." Molly lifted a finger, gesturing for him to wait then she went back to the curved wall where the werewolf had been thrown earlier. She knelt and picked up a sword in its sheath then carried it back to him. "Should I hold onto this? You won't need it anymore. At least not right now."

"True." He looked up, seeing Sinopa approach with clothing that looked his size. He quirked a brow in confusion. "How did…? Where did that come from?"

Creven rolled her eyes, glanced at Molly then said, "I'm sure these are probably just an _illusion_. It's really a fig leaf for you to hide your…" Her eyes lowered and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "That. So… enjoy your _fig leaf_." She draped the garb over his arm then walked back towards Giakanokus to check on him.

"What was _that_ about?"

Molly shook her head with a sigh. "Nothing. I insulted her earlier. I'm curious though… I wonder where she got these from."

"It's a yukata," said Crevan from further down the hall. "It'll give you plenty of room to move around." She spoke with Giakanokus for a moment then returned to the younger couple. "He's okay."

Justus looked at the strange cotton attire for a moment then lifted his eyes back to her. "Does it look like what you're wearing?"

"No," said Crevan. She brought a finger to her neckline. "This is a Juban kimono." Her finger trailed downwards. "Montuki kimono." Her finger lowered further, "Haori himo, and the belt is the obi under the hakama." Her finger pointed to the floor. "Tabi socks and setta sandals." She brought her fingers back up to her sleeves. "The Montuki Haori jacket." Her fingers came up to her sternum. "Date-eri." She lifted her other hand, holding a small rectangular object then, with a flick of her wrist, opened a folding fan. She saw the confusion in his eyes. "This is a fan." And, to amuse herself, she fanned Justus' face. "See? A fan. You don't get one of these."

Giakanokus approached the group. "What she's not telling you of this wafuku is that she's in drag – this is how a man dresses." He gave the kitsune a pat on the shoulder and walked passed her. The glue in his 'mohawk' had been sweated away so that now the center section of his hair was lying to the left, giving a purely 'anime' feel. He looked up causing the other three to glance upwards.

At the far end of the hall, Soma Cruz and Julius Belmont entered the room. Julius narrowed his gaze, looking first at his re-transformed nephew. "It appears the way we took has circled back around." Belmont approached his nephew with a frown. "So… it finally happened again."

"Yeah," said Justus, hooking a thumb at the other man then bringing the folded cotton clothes back to cover himself. "Giakanokus helped me figure it out just in time to fight a… thing. Do these creatures even have names?"

"Everything has a name," said the man with the noseband.

Julius sidestepped to the man in all black. He quirked a brow. "What gives with your hair falling over? You in a _Flock Of Seagulls_ cover band, kid?"

Giakanokus tilted his head. "Sorry, I'm not familiar with them."

"Eighties humor," came the concise reply. "No sign of Alucard yet." He nodded back to Soma then shifted with a side-nod towards the far end of the hallway. Julius climbed up over some of the rubble and continued over the pile with Soma hurrying to keep up with him. Belmont called back to the group, "Stay out of trouble, Justus. I don't need Tina Bell coming after me." He opened a door for Soma, gestured him through then followed, shutting the door behind himself.

Molly looked back at Justus, as did Giakanokus.

Sinopa shrugged. "That's the chattiest I've _ever_ see him. He must be in a good mood."

"That other guy was awful quiet, though." Justus began to pull the remaining pieces of cloth from his ankles and wrists then he dressed himself in the simplistic Japanese robe. Sinopa had been right, it was comfortable and easy to wear considering his larger size and enlarged upper body, not to mention the tail. The robe kept the tail in check so it was stowed away. He turned towards the three and shrugged. "Well?"

"It's fine," said Crevan. She coiled her hands around Giakanokus' bicep and said, "He thinks so, too. You look fine, Justus."

Molly shrugged. "You look like you just got out of the tub."

Sinopa snorted. "Justus, dear, don't listen to the girl. Westerners have no concept of culture or taste anymore. It's not a bathrobe." She nodded to a door nearby. "Since Julius came from the east and headed west, let's change course and go north."

"Yeah, sure." Justus lifted the flowing sleeves, examining them for a moment. He shrugged and said, "Let's go kill something and find your diamond. I hope that Alucard guy is okay."

The kitsune shrugged. "I'm sure he's fine. Situations like this wouldn't happen if my Hoshi no Tama wasn't stolen from me in the first place. I understand it has history in this castle from before I initially obtained it… but it no longer has a place on _this_ plane."

Molly sighed then said, "Lead the way." She waited until Giakanokus and Sinopa headed forth then she approached Justus, falling into step with him, and said, "Those two are weird."

"Yeah, I guess." The werewolf lifted his paws, gesturing to the strange clothing. "This has to be the weirdest thing I've ever warn."

"It fits well, though," said Molly, nodding firmly in agreement.

* * *

X

**Julius and Soma** came to a stop as they entered a large stone arena at the heart of the castle. Cruz frowned. "What's wrong?"

Julius snorted in disdain. He pointed to a dusty stone chair at the far end. "Richter Belmont sat _right there_ working for the dark priest, Shaft. He was brainwashed into thinking he was the lord of the castle. He sat there, waiting to fight other humans to the death. That was several centuries ago but the story of it still disgusts me every time I think about it."

"How do you know so much about the details of this castle and your family's involvements?" Soma approached one of the crackling torches on the wall that was set up in a ring around the large arena.

"Knowledge and history make me better at my job."

"Aren't you working with Yoko for the church, now?"

Julius shrugged. "First and foremost, my job is _this_." He opened his arms, gesturing to the castle around them. "I'm a Belmont. I kill vampires, Soma. It's what I do." He kicked up a small amount of dust at the center of the arena. "Alucard fought Richter here. I don't know all the details but Alucard was triumphant."

"I thought the Belmonts couldn't be beat?"

"Remember nine years ago when _you_ beat _me_? I didn't give it my all. Deep down, Richter probably didn't want to fight against Alucard; if a Belmont fights with heart..." He paused then frowned. "Well, that's not true either – Belmonts' have died doing this job. It's not exactly safe." Julius offered nothing more than a shrug. A sharp noise caused him to blink. Julius glanced around, seeing metal shutters slide down over the doors at either end of the small arena. The old man narrowed his gaze. "Get ready kid – something's going on."

A third voice joined the group. "I fought Richter _right here_," came the aloof tone of Alucard. "It wasn't pretty but he lived." He offered a nod towards Soma. "And my one-time father… the _two of you_, huh? Working together. Impressive."

"Cut the chitchat. First of all, where's the diamond at?" asked Belmont.

"I left it behind – I no longer need it," said the vampire with a roll of his shoulders. "And what are _you_ boys doing in _my_ neck of the woods, hmm?"

Soma looked back at Julius and whispered, "Something's different about him."

Julius spoke loud and clear in reply to Soma, not caring to hide his conversation. "Yeah, something's different alright. This is either a doppelganger of Alucard or he inadvertently touched the damn diamond. He's not the same person right now."

The dhampire snorted in disdain. "I'm starting to see things clearly. After over six hundred years I am _finally_ getting it."

Cruz tilted his head. "Get _what_? We're all on the same side, here."

"There are no sides," said Alucard. "You're trespassing on my property – willed to me by my father. Simply leave and I'll be pleased. And to be clear, I did touch that diamond. I touched it in unison to Camilla."

"Don't you remember us?" asked Soma.

"Of course I do," said the silvery-haired eternal youth. "But the reincarnated soul of my father is now in a weak-hearted body. And my father's greatest nemesis is now an old man. I have a fresh out look on things now. Did you both know that _humans_ kill my mother _and_ my father? What are they worth? Nothing. I have no desire to wage war against _all_ of humanity but I have no problems waging war with those who are trespassing in my domain."

"If you're going to act like this," said Julius, "Then you really should return to torpor."

"Forgive me, Julius Belmont. You won't be putting me there."

"He's not some slouch," said Soma. "Julius is a…"

Alucard waved a hand in a dismissive fashion. "…Old man, put out to pasture. He lost to you, and it was your first time even holding weapons. Yes, I know, he _let_ you win. Whatever. Even if he beat you, you've not been in combat training for nearly seven hundred years. Dracula is dead; the Belmont clansmen now have no reason to take up arms, you see? The circle is complete. It's time to begin a new story without the same good guys and the same bad guys. But before that happens, it's time for everyone here to leave my home. I will give you some time to comply. If you're still here when I decide that time is up… we'll take this situation to the next level."

The body of Alucard began a rapid morph, changing into a sizable bat. It screeched then flapped its wings, leaving through a small window in the ceiling. Once he was gone, the metal shutters began to lift. One of them got stuck in its track; the other disappeared completely from the doorway.

Soma frowned. "Now what? Honestly, he doesn't seem all that evil… just a bit of a dick."

"He's not in his right mind," said Julius with a frown. "Apparently he didn't receive the full essence of his father from contact with that diamond. I'm curious as to how Camilla will act when she shows up. Either way, if he was imbued with the hate of Dracula, Alucard would have attacked us just now."

"What does it mean that he's just asked us to leave instead?"

"That it hasn't corrupted him to the point where he's pure evil. However, it _has_ messed with his head. It will probably have messed with Camilla's head. If those two are allowed to have progeny, _then_ you'll see a being that rivals the original Dracula. We can't allow that."

"So, now what, Julius?"

"C'mon kid. Let's keep moving. First thing's first – we gotta find the diamond and give it to Sinopa so she can get it _out_ of this castle. The sooner the better. I don't want that thing falling into the wrong hands."

"This is all so strange." Soma sighed then said, "I hope Hammer is okay. Anyway, let's keep moving then. Twenty-four hours is plenty of time if we work together."

Julius nodded wordlessly to the monologue then offered a side-nod towards one of the entrances and left, leading Cruz through it. "C'mon, kiddo."

* * *

X

N/A: _YAY! Lol Okay… so - long update, because it's two combined, yeah?  
So anyhow, I'm going to finish the final chapter of Sly Cooper: Dawn of Progeny then I'll come back and add more to this story. Thanks for reading!_

_I called the update "DOUBLEPACK" because I was playing the GBA doublepack with Aria of Sorrow and Harmony of Dissonance. To me, the name made sense. xD_


	17. Chapter 17:The Information Age

A/N: _Sorry I've been busy. Read my BIO for the link to where I'm posting my current material... I'm now doing all original stories. :D ...I'll talk more about that later. ON TO THE CHAPTER!_

The Information Age

**Alucard made his way down to the** cathedral and flung the doors open. It was clean and orderly with no creatures. A girl wearing a maid's outfit looked up, feather duster in hand. She placed the duster on a podium to the far right side of the stage then held her hands up as though ready to attack.

"Have you not heard?" he asked her. "I am the lord of this castle, now. I have the four eternal monks working to transfer the castle's power to me; their incantation is nearly complete."

She stared at Alucard for a moment then picked up her duster again. "Very well. My job is finished in this room anyhow." She disappeared in an explosion of rose pedals, which disappeared before they touched the ground.

Alucard approached the altar and placed his hands upon it. He stared at the smooth marble surface. "I'm here. Where are you, old man?"

An older looking gentleman stepped from the shadows and drew a hood back. "Adrian."

"Zobek." He narrowed his eyes. "Lord of the Necromancers, Lord of the Dead. …Pawn of Satan."

"Not anymore," said the older man. "Not for a long time."

Alucard folded his arms and stood up straight. "You look like a cross between Sean Conner and Patrick Stewart."

"You've become cynical. No matter, boy. So, you've touched the diamond. You've been filled with dark magic. Do you know why?"

"Surely you will tell me."

"Black magic is the only form of magic that will work against Lucifer. Your father lived and breathed black magic, because Satan was his enemy. Satan sought the apocalypse. Your father stood in his way. He murdered innocent people and feasted on their blood and made a pact with Death in order to increase his power. He used that power, combined with the power of the castle, to fight Lucifer."

Alucard eyed the old man. "Ironic that you were a founder of the Brotherhood of Light."

"Mm, you know your history, boy. And with a disguise, I was called Death."

"Yes, this I already knew. It's rare to see you with your flesh upon your face. So, it was _you_ that brought the stone into this castle. It was you that wanted me to touch it. I've touched it. Now what do you want of me?"

"Errant boy, it's time you take your father's place. You will follow in his exact footsteps and use black magic to fight Lucifer. You may fight him however you wish, so long as you defeat him. Your father chose to bare this burden alone and increased his power by sacrificing innocent lives, and by drinking the blood of every creature he could find. He made his castle alive, and gave it the ability to draw power on its own, then used the castle as an amplifier. The castle, itself, was your father's…sidekick of sorts."

"When is Lucifer going to attack? How do I fight him?"

Zobek smiled, seeing Alucard so willing to take up the mantle. "Sir Isaac Newton had several predictions for the end of the world. One was in 2034. Lucifer did in fact attempt to amass power, and the Castle began to amass its own power to counterbalance… After a year, the castle became fully powered and it appeared."

"Ah." Alucard began pacing in front of the altar. "That's why it appeared in 2035 in front of Soma. It was calling to its previous owner like a dog barking for attention."

"Indeed, that is one way of looking at it. Isaac Newton's final prediction is set for 2060. Fifteen years from now."

"That gives me plenty of time, then. Why power the castle, and send the stone out to call me in so early?"

"Lucifer will attack in fourteen years. The world will end a year later, in 2060. The seven-headed beast will devour the Great Whore of Babylon. The seven mountains will come to power."

"I see the pattern in the sevens. What does it have to do with Lucifer's attack in 2059?"

"Adrian, come now… Seven-multiplied-by-two is fourteen and that is when the attack first begins. You must stop it _now_ while Lucifer's power is weak. That way, when he attacks in 2059, fourteen years from now, the world will not breathe its last breath the following year in 2060. Do you understand everything I have told you?"

"Yes. Heaven knows you keep repeating yourself. I get it. Lucifer is attacking in fourteen years, whether or not he is at full power. If I defeat him now, in my father's stead, then he will not be at full strength in 2059, thus making it possible to defeat him before Newton's prophecy happens, regarding 2060."

"Excellent. Then we have a pact? Typically, your father makes his pacts with me but I suppose I will settle for working with you this time around."

"Zobek, I only received half of the stone's transference. And I will not be able to wield as much dark magic as my father, because I am not capable of hating as passionately as he once did. Therefor I can never be as powerful of a black magic wielder as he was. And without black magic, I cannot fight Lucifer."

"You have friends capable of fighting alongside of you, do you not?"

Alucard opened his mouth to speak then paused. He glared at his father's most trusted, yet most hated sidekick then narrowed his gaze. "They do not use black magic either. But they would help. But how do I ask them, now that they don't trust me because of what you've done to me?"

"You manipulate them."

"Oh! You mean the way you manipulated my father, in his mortal days as Gabriel, to behead his own wife, Marie?"

"I was under Satan's possession."

"Do not call me boy. I have a question, first…who is the Whore of Babylon?"

"The 'city' capable of overthrowing kings. The false prophet. The mother of prostitutes and Abominations of the Earth. The Great Idolatress, an associate of the Antichrist and the Beast of Revelation. She makes the inhabitants of the Earth drunk on the wine of her fornication."

"Who or _what_ is she, exactly?"

Zobek smirked. He folded his arms. "The people of this world have many names for it. They call it an Internet, a World Wide Web, a Network… it is a soulless place of false knowledge intermingled with truths and half-truths. This soulless beast has become its own monster, self-sustaining and widely idolized. Billions use and worship it. Billions believe what they see within it. Millions fornicate to it, and it has millions of images of abominations at its heart."

"Surely you're not serious."

"I am. And its users, people of the entire world, idolize it and things they see upon it. Yes, this interconnected community is that which could 'overthrow kings.' This internet is the false prophet, bringer of half-truths and false prophecies. This internet is the mother of abominations and prostitutes – where a person can promise their body to another in exchange for a payment done as an electronic transaction. The Whore of Babylon has been with us in its full glory since around the time Julius Belmont single-handedly won the day during the Demon Castle War of 1999. And, Alucard, you cannot defeat the Internet. You cannot fight the Great Whore of false prophecy. You can only sit back and let the seven-headed beast it rode in on devour the internet as prophesized to happen."

Alucard looked away with a frown. "Very well. Then chapter seventeen, verse twelve: "And the ten horns which thou saw are ten kings, which have received no kingdom as yet; but receive power as kings one hour with the beast." The ten kings with no kingdom but with power as kings… who are they?"

"Ten kingdomless kings. They are the ten horns that fight. Perhaps one will be a Belmont. Perhaps one will be the child of Soma and Mina. Perhaps one will be your child. Perhaps one will be the child of the Merchant and the Belnades witch. But this troupe of fifteen year old boys cannot fight alone. They will be led into battle by the werewolf and you, and their closest friends… and they will be backed by the seven heads of the great monster upon whose back once carried The Great Whore. And these seven heads will fund the ten horns. And the werewolf will lead the battle with his claws of fate."

Alucard ran his hands back through his white hair. "Verse fifteen, the back of the beast where the whore sat… is the people and multitudes, and nations and tongues…"

"Indeed, Adrian. They were the users of the internet. Verse eighteen speaks that the Whore was… _is_ the community that has reign over the kings of the people. For a simple line of false information from the internet has the power to topple a government or reign over a ruler by sparking revolt. And now you see the internet is _that_ community… that city… that is, herself, The Great Whore. She cannot be defeated. Only the people, themselves, can defeat her."

"If I cannot fight The Great Whore, then how do I fight Lucifer?"

"You have fourteen years to figure out a plan. Else, you'll all be dead in fifteen. But I brought you all here, now, so that you can find a way to fight Lucifer while he's weak and attempting to begin gaining power. The Anti-Castle can link you into the heart of the Chaotic Realm. Once there, it's up to you to figure out how to cross the river of Hell and lead your band of merry men to victory."

"I cannot ask my friends to fight alongside me in such a battle as that."

"Very well. Kill Camilla and assume her half of the power she absorbed in the stone. Then kill Soma Cruz and absorb his soul – your father's soul. With dominance over that soul, you would have the power necessary to use Satan's army against him."

Alucard looked away with a sigh.

"I've told you everything you need to know. Go and do what is necessary. Do what your father had to do… with every innocent you murder, your mastery of black magic will grow stronger. And with that black magic, you will be most effective against Lucifer. The only thing that stands in your way is an old vampire hunter and his friends."

"No. I don't have the hundreds of years that my father had in order to learn how to wield the dark arts properly. My father threw away his humanity for the sake of mastery over the only force capable of hurting Satan… by fighting fire with fire. And after centuries of fighting, Satan is still unbeaten. He still commands men by reaching into their souls and triggering their original sin. My father's way may have been effective, but it wasn't capable of besting Lucifer – only driving him back into his hole for a while longer. I've decided to take a new approach. I will _not_ be like my father. I will do things _my way_. Without murdering innocent people and without mastering black magic."

"Very well. Tell me, Adrian, how do you plan to achieve what your father strived to do for centuries?"

"I do not yet know. But the boy seems to have perfect balance. He's a monster – a werewolf. He's also able to bring out the good in all those who flock about him, which is just about everyone in the castle right now."

Zobek rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Indeed, they all flock to a creature with claws. He will be the queen of this chessboard; the most powerful offensive piece. If these claws of fate are capable of leading the charge in fourteen years… then those claws are capable of being put to use against Lucifer right now. Today. But I still suggest you kill Camilla and Soma."

"No. I will not kill Soma. Camilla, however, is a possibility. But I will need Laura to do it. Why is Laura capable of protecting Camilla? How?"

"She's one of the only creatures capable of allowing vampires to mate. But she is a virgin. Also, she is one of very few who are capable of producing a child from the seed of a vampire. You could give her a child, you know."

"I see."

"Go on, Adrian. Do what you must to fight back Lucifer. You have my scythe; I will fight at your side."

"Very well. I will amass them like troops and we will find our way out of the Anti-Castle and into the Chaotic Realm. And we will cross the River Styx, and fight through every level of Hell. Then we will leave Satan, alone and powerless in his frozen prison, just as Dente has foretold it. My father used Black Magic as a defense to ward off Satan's attempt at ending the Earth Realm. But I have to ask… why would he attack the Earth Realm? Why not simply amuse himself with it?"

"Adrian Tepes…"

"What?"

"Lucifer's war is against Heaven. It always has been. But the Earth Realm stands between Heaven and Hell. The Earth Realm has always been the great chasm of defense between Heaven and Hell. If the physical plane falls, the war between Heaven and Hell will commence."

"My father had a very strange way of fighting to save the world. Murdering innocent people, manipulating, killing, impaling, blood drinking..."

"I will see you soon." Zobek stepped into the shadows and was gone in an instant.

Julius and Soma dropped from a high ledge, landing adjacent to one another. They both narrowed their gaze at Adrian.

In return, Adrian glared back. Silence. After a moment, he said, "I understand now. After all these centuries of wondering why my father could be so evil, so cruel… I now understand his true motivations. But where does this leave _us_, Belmont? Cruz?"

Julies and Soma looked at one another then they both nodded. Julius reached forward and offered his hand. After a brief pause, Adrian reached forward and took it in a firm shake.

"Very well, gentlemen."

Julius relinquished the shake then said, "I take it you don't want us to leave your castle now, Alucard?"

"I never truly expected you to… there's fallout out there in the real world, and leaving the Anti-Castle would take more than one Seal Cracker. Unfortunately, this means we'll need the entire team. I am trying to fight the effects of whatever that stone did to my mind, but my father had quite the passionate personality. My serious nature has been compromised because I've received my father's impassioned feelings. It's made me playful, cynical, temperamental…I will try to be myself, but it's not been easy. Forgive my behavior in advance."

"Fair enough, Alucard."

"Done," said Soma, adding, "Some part of you, to some degree, is my son, Adrian. Alucard, if you prefer. I felt a connection to you. I dreamed you were in danger. I promise that Mina won't be involved this time. I love her too much to endanger her. We've begun a relationship. Anyhow, I hope you understand why I'm here. And I hope you won't follow the suggestion of your friend."

"Death was offering an option. I do not need to kill you, Soma. If anything, you can help me using your ability, and stay very-much alive. We'll need to gather the rest and explain this plan. Also, we'll no longer have the help if the time traveler. He cannot travel outside the mortal realm because Hell is timeless. Germaine is a Saint, and probably couldn't go into Hell anyhow. We'll meet here in six hours. Find everyone you can and bring them here."

"Very well." Julius shook Alucard's hand again.

Soma motioned to Alucard and said, "I'm staying with Adrian. Not as the soul of his father, but to ensure his protection. If he's part of the one who will save the world, I want to make sure he stays alive. Julius, you need to keep your nephew alive, because he's apparently important as well."

"I'll find him." Belmont nodded to them both then left the chapel.

X

* * *

X

**Justus used his palms** to rub his face. He stretched a bit then looked around. Silence. He opened a door and peered into a room with Molly and Laura, then said, "Are you two going to be okay by yourselves? I'm going to check on that lady."

"I appreciate it," said Laura in a respectful tone. "I will protect Miss Fields."

Justus nodded then shut the door behind himself. He waited until he heard a lock click into place, turned from the door and headed up the hallway. His eyes shifted from left to right and he sniffed at the air.

All at once the werewolf took off up the hallway at breakneck speed. His long legs helped him to gallop at a speed in excess of thirty miles an hour.

Halfway up the hallway was a hunting squad of skeleton soldiers. Justus tucked his head down and bowled through them with ease. In the background, he heard bones clattering to the floor.

Endorphins flooded his body. The run felt amazing. His heart raced and his jaw opened, tongue flapping in the wind like a happy dog. He galloped like a horse, blazing through several intersections. Some creatures ignored him as just another monster, others stepped into the hall to watch him race by.

The hallway ended at a 'T'. He put his forepaws forward, bound off the wall and ran along the wall to the left briefly then back to the floor. Something felt incredibly natural about the free-run.

The hall ended with a sudden stop, as though it had been partially bricked up a long time ago. He slid to a halt then stood up on his hindpaws, eyes narrow. The wall seemed to be partially concave, bricks sunken in at the center of the wall. The ledge jutted forward. It made it difficult to scale the wall.

After two failed attempts of reaching the ledge, Justus sneered in frustration.

"Don't give up, kid."

Justus blinked, sniffed, then looked up. His uncle stood on the ledge above. Justus backed up a bit and gave it another go. He ran towards the wall, put his foot on it and reached for the ledge but couldn't make it.

"It's called Parkour. Try using the sidewalls and momentum and you should be able to shoot straight up it."

Another failed attempt ended with Justus sitting unceremoniously on his tail. "Yeah? I'd like to see you do it, old man."

Julius grinned, another rare glint at the man's personality. He stepped off the high ledge and dropped down onto the lower section, knees bent to absorb the impact. He stood up, adjusted the fabric of his coat then motioned with his hand. "Step back, newbie."

Belmont walked halfway down the hall, turned about, then darted back towards the ledge. He put one foot on the inwardly-slopped wall, his other foot on the side wall, then put his hands on the ledge. He used his momentum to make his way up to the top in a blink then turned around and put his hands on his hips. "Now you."

"I just got showed up by an old man."

"I train for this," said Julius, adding, "and you don't. So I'm not judging you. I'm trying to help you." He lowered to one knee.

Justus made his way back up the hall then broke into a hard sprint. He tried to make his way up the corner of the wall again and reached for the ledge. His forepaws caught it but not with enough purchase to pull himself. His claws dug into the floor, cracking tiles that went to the edge. His large clawed feet scraped wildly at the wall, unable to gain purchase.

Belmont reached down with his right hand and snatched his nephew's furry forearm. "I got'cha kiddo. Use those claws on your feet. You just need to bounce from left to right and zip up that corner. If we ever make it home, there's an old Chinese movie star named Jackie Chan. You'll want to watch his footwork."

Justus made his way up over the ledge then rolled onto his side with a grunt. "Yeah, I've heard of Jackie Chan." He sat up on his haunches then rose to his feet. "You make it look easy."

"It's like headbutting someone. It looks easier than it is. In reality, you can knock yourself out doing that crap wrong."

"That I _do_ know," said the teen. "Did a lot of wrestling in high school. You're not supposed to smack your forehead against someone else's forehead."

"Yeah. Aim for the face. Pray they don't lower their head when ya' do. Look, Justus, I'm impressed. You haven't trained yet you've survived admirably. You even killed stuff with a sword at one point. I brought you into this because I wanted a stout man to have my back and you've done just that. Hell, you've outdone yourself. So we need to talk."

"What about?"

"It's going to get harder from here on out. And it's going to get weird. You're going to see things you've never seen before. You're going to see things that look upside down. You're going to see things that look unreal. I might not make it. So I need to teach you whatever I'm able while we're working together."

"What's the plan. I've seen enough that I'm ready to believe whatever you say."

Belmont began walking alongside of the werewolf hands on his whips from where they clung to his belt. "I've just learned something that has really tested everything I've learned about my life. Dracula was a real bastard. But it turns out he was doing every bad thing he could on purpose to do something good."

Julius didn't let his nephew chime in. He gestured for the youth to stay quiet. After a moment to compose his thoughts, he continued his explanation. "I've learned that his mortal enemy was Lucifer. As in Satan. He never gave his soul to the devil. Don't know why, maybe it was a simple case of two alpha males bucking horns. But the fact is, Dracula learned the only way to fight Lucifer was by using black magic against black magic. The only way for Dracula to increase his mastery of black magic was to kill innocent people, drink the blood of his enemies, and corrupt the righteous. The only way to become powerful enough to repel Satan's grip on this realm was to dominate every soul he could."

Julius furrowed his large bushy brows. "He stole the souls of humankind in order to repel… what? The apocalypse? He committed atrocities in the name of the greater good?"

"You're better with words than me, kiddo. He had to forsake his humanity in order to save humanity. I went to the library after learning this stuff and I took an hour to do some research. You know what I found?"

"What?"

"A journal. He lamented his Christian upbringing. He lamented his wife…he's lost more than one over the course of his eternal life. I also learned that he got tired of immortality and heartbreak. In 1999, he personally fought off the devil and saved the world. Then he went up against me and my father, Vincent Belmont, and now I have to wonder if he just… let us beat him so he could go away forever. I slayed a hero to humanity in the name of 'good.' But I've never saved the world. I've never fought Satan for control of this physical realm we call home."

"Sounds like this really bothers you."

"Yeah. I guess the Romanians were right to celebrate him as a folk hero, despite what people like Bram Stoker have said about the man. He fought two fronts – one against Muslim expansion, and one against Satanic expansion. He used his demons to fight off the demons of Hell itself. And now he's not around anymore to save the damned world from the one thing scarier than Dracula."

"Oh." Justus licked his chops then a frown tugged at the corner of his muzzle. "So now what?"

"We go to Hell and stop Lucifer from gaining power by fighting him, beating down and keeping him frozen in his prison. We hurt the devil, because he wants to amass power and fight the world in fourteen years from now. And if we don't stop him from gathering that power, the world will end the following year – 2060."

"Shit."

"Justus…"

"Don't get like my mother. You've just told me I have to fight the creatures of Hell. I thought I already was. I thought Dracula or this castle was filled with hellspawn. But something tells me they were just an army of creatures loyal to repelling Hell. And whatever we go up against, they're going to be way harder to beat."

"Yeah. You got it, kid. Those creatures banded together with Dracula to fight for their freedom _from_ Hell. And those creatures no longer have a leader to lead them. All they do now is protect the castle from capture. That's it."

"Will you lead them?" asked Justus.

Julius looked away. "A good portion of these creatures were once humans. And I lead them into the Demon Castle War of '99, and they got slaughtered, transformed into monsters, and their souls were given to Dracula for use in fighting off Lucifer. I'm a horrible leader. I work better alone. I'm a commando. A splinter cell. I can't lead. Hell, I'm no good with Chess, either."

"So… we're going to go into Hell and fight creatures that make these castle halls look tame?"

"Castlevania's strongest creatures haven't died. They've been defeated, but it's akin to knocking them out. They retreat into the Chaotic Realm of Castlevania and recharge. There is a section of this castle that exists in a parallel dimension. If we can find a way to _leave_ the Anti-Castle, we'll be standing on the shores of Hell. Don't ask me to explain – I've just learned most of this stuff in the past two hours."

"Jesus."

"He can't save us. He can only save our souls if we lose. Did you learn anything else about your father?"

"No, not yet. Just that Ortega saw him die from the belltower. I promised to release Ortega's soul from this castle so he can go to Heaven. That makes me curious – if we die in this castle or in Hell… are we trapped there?"

"It's possible. But your father's body was never found, Justus. If he was killed in the castle and trapped here like Ortega, you'd have seen him by now. But if he was killed outside of the castle, his body would have been found. Was Ortega in the Anti-Castle's belltower?"

"Is there a difference?" The voice came from behind.

Julius turned about, hands on his whips. Justus turned around, recognizing the voice, and reached for his uncle to stay the old soldier's reaction.

"Apparently so," Justus said. "Do you remember which belltower you were at when you saw my father die?"

"They were driving a vehicle. One does not drive a car into Hell," said Ortega. "That _is_ what modern horseless carriages are called, are they not? A car?"

"It is one term," said Julius, looking the ghost over, admiring his impressive size. "I wouldn't know anything about Hell. I've never been there. I wouldn't even know where to go. At least in Dracula's castle, you simply go to the tallest tower and strike with everything you've got. But Hell…"

Justus grinned. "You telling me you're nervous, Uncle J.? I thought you'd be happy as …well… hell. You get to fight everything you see."

"My job is to fight vampires and save Earth. I'm out of my zone fighting Hellspawn in Hell, trying to find the devil. And I don't know how to fight him. I don't know what to expect. The devil is temptation. It's a credit card that gives you what you want when you want it at the cost of an insane APR later on, which you can't afford. It's a neverending debt. How do you fight the _real_ devil?"

"Perhaps I can help answer that question." Ortega stepped between them, passing right through their bodies. He turned around, folded his arms and faced them directly. "You should know that a lot of gossip passes through this castle. Dracula increased his mastery of dark magic by doing evil acts. We captured an Angel of Heaven and kept that angel far from the sight of heaven. We forced information out of him… Weapons belonging to the Arch Angels have been stolen and wound up in Hell. Even though hellspawn cannot use those weapons, simply having them means they can't be used against Hellspawn. They can only be handled by a worthy being who is free of the desire to sin, and free of temptation. It sounds like you, Belmont, have no temptation in your life. You're not even tempted to go into Hell and fight everything you see."

"You think we should find these weapons and use them?"

"I do. Perhaps, if God did know we captured and tortured his angel, he let it happen in order to allow this information that would come into use tonight. And now you can use that information to strike the Devil."

"I cannot do it alone." Julius turned to Justus. "Young man, we'll need everyone's help. Giakanokus, Sinopa, Alucard, Soma, Hammer, Yoko, Laura, Molly… perhaps even the help of Vampira."

"Uncle J., you think you'll be able to do this? I need you to be confident. I need to feel like we're not going to die as soon as we arrive."

Julius eyed his nephew for a moment then cracked a thin smile again. "We'll make it to Satan's chambers. The question is… will I live to the end of the fight? I'm an old man. But you… you'll lead the charge, and lead it again in 2059."

Ortega smirked at Julius. "You'll live. I was there, watching you spy on Adrian Tepes' conversation with Death. They expect your nephew to lead the war in fourteen years. And they expect your future child to be part of the fight. I heard them, so did you. Are you getting cold feet?"

"No. I'm feeling my age. I'm used to fighting creatures on my own, but I don't want to hold anyone back because I'm not what I used to be. I'm disgusted by the thought of ever being the deadweight."

"Yeah. Look, I went to check on Vampira. Let's go take a look then figure out what to do next."

"In that case, we're close." Julius nodded to Ortega then started walking up the hall. He made a right turn at the next intersection, crossed a large empty hall, into another hallway then opened a door on the left. Vampira looked up, sitting on one of the two beds in the room. She saw Belmont; they glared at one another.

Justus cleared his throat and stepped into the room. "We have Laura, so you're not invisible right now. Things are complicated. We learned that gaining Dracula's essence means you've now gained Dracula's mission to use black magic and hatred to save the world against the Devil. No, I'm not messing with you. I need to know if you're going to help or hinder us. And my uncle doesn't want to deal with your drama. So if you're not going to help all of us, then you're in our way."

Vampira looked from one to the other then back. After a moment she said, "I need to know that Laura is safe. I understand you're keeping her away from me, but how do I know she's still alive."

Julius cleared his throat then, in his usual gruff voice, said, "We'll let you be reunited if you're going to help us repel an attack on this realm from Lucifer."

"We'll need Belmont to not be an old man."

"Hey," Julius said, eyes narrowed.

"No, you foolish man. We'll need for you to be young and fit to keep us all alive if you're planning to fight your way into Hell. And I know how we can do that."

"You know, don't you?" asked the werewolf.

"I was given the essence of Dracula and visited by Death. He explained everything to me just as he apparently has done with Adrian. So yes, I know what's being asked of us. I understand that we'll have to work together in order to survive. And I understand that we'll need a Belmont. Lucifer and Dracula fought against one another. Lucifer could never take down Dracula directly. Instead, he would cause a situation that would lead to a Belmont defeating Dracula _for Satan_. Manipulation is the name of that fallen angel's game. He's the master. In order to have you at your full power, Belmont, you'll need to have myself and Adrian cast an incantation. We'll use our combined power of dominance to draw the souls of the greatest past Belmonts and put them into your body. You will become Simon, Trevor, Juste, Christopher, Leon, Richter, Vincent, and many others."

"My father, too? How in God's name can you make that happen? Their souls went to Heaven. They're inaccessible to you."

Vampira shook her head slowly. "Have you _met_ Death? He's a founder of the Brotherhood of Light. He's had access to Heaven. He will bring the mightiest of your ancestors – you can _only_ take on the souls of your direct bloodline. Not all Belmonts will be compatible with you. But those that are will be summoned into your body to help you be at your mightiest. It will be confusing, as you may struggle with your own identity."

"I've lived with memory loss for three and a half decades. I can handle it." Julius turned to his nephew and frowned. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is something you get from the battlefield, or from surviving this castle. But at least people struggling with PTSD usually hold onto their sanity. But Hell, itself, may threaten to strip that from you – from us both. From us _all_."

"I've seen some crazy stuff. At first it bothered me. I fully expect Hell to scare the shit out of me, Uncle J. But you know what would make me stressed and insane? If I knew this stuff was going to happen and I _didn't_ stop it. At least if we go and we stop this nonsense, I'll know that I can sleep at night. I'll know that I can sit in the sunshine again and not freak out that it'll all be gone soon. Does that make sense?"

"You handle stress fairly well, considering all you've seen. You adapt quickly. I've trained my whole childhood away, and the last ten years for this nonsense. And I don't fit into society because I'm told I have severe PTSD. But here, in this castle, I can be myself and I don't feel broken. But you… I think you'll walk away from this nonsense and still have your wits about you."

"I sure as hell hope so," said Justus. "I need to get Ortega out of the lower level before we go. I promised. And I'll meet up with you guys shortly. I've got a few hours, after all. Ortega will help guide me. It seems the creatures have stopped attacking me, even when I attack them. It shouldn't be difficult."

Vampira smirked. "They've been ordered to stand down. As it turns out, they'll be fighting to keep the castle safe in our absence. When the castle is opened from the Anti-Castle side, hellspawn can flood in. They'll need to keep the castle safe or we won't have a way home. Go and do what you must do. We have a few hours before we have to meet in the chapel. Belmont, take me to Laura. Then I will take you to Adrian and we will give you the borrowed souls of your ancestors. Adrian can use the four eternal monks to give you back your youth, to a degree. You'll look and feel as though you're in your thirties again. Not because we want to help you, but because we'll need a young Belmont to survive."

Julius eyed her briefly then nodded. "Fine. I'll take you to Laura." He turned to Justus in time to see Ortega appear in the hallway again. "Stay safe. Even without monsters, this castle can be dangerous. Traps, spikes, crumbling floors… just be careful. You're family. Something I've never really had for the most part. Stay frosty, okay?"

The werewolf put his large arms around his uncle. Belmont tensed up, never having been hugged by anyone except Yoko before that he could recall. After a moment, he returned the hug, albeit in a standoffish way. The awkwardness began to melt then he put his other arm around the large beast and gave Justus' back a firm pat.

Justus relinquished the hug then they shook hands. "See you in a few hours, Uncle J. Stay frosty." A grin tugged at the werewolf's maw. The old man smirked in reply.

X

* * *

X

A/N:_ Much more to come. I really needed a break from my original story found on FictionPress dot com using the same penname as I use here: Kit-Karamak (with the hyphen). _

_I have a large series of stories there and I'm closing in on a book deal that I want from a publisher. But I won't accept just any ole deal. I'll self-publish for e-readers before I accept a crappy book deal, y'know? _

_This is now the end of the first half of this story. _

_Act 2, as it were, will be in the Anti-Castle, going into Hell.  
I'm sorry there was so much information and not much action for this chapter. But I wanted to explain what the hell was going on (pun not initially intended), and I needed to answer a lot of questions before forcing the good guys and bad guys to work together. And believe me… it's not going to be easy. Furthermore, Justus will finally learn about his father very soon. And Alucard will be struggling with his father's essence. And Soma, and Vampira… And Julius is going to be overwhelmed with the souls of other Belmonts within him… but it will give him a lot of the cool abilities we've seen used by past Belmonts. I was thinking only a handful would be compatible with him, allowing him to be more powerful, but… NOT 'all powerful,' so to speak. _

_GOD this story is really bad, though. Lots of times where I didn't edit it. I just wrote it to relax, and posted it. But god, re-reading through has been super painful, LOL. _

_Plus I don't even write in the same style anymore. If you go to FictionPress dot com ( forward-slash u/543072/Kit-Karamak ) and look me up as Kit-Karamak, and read my prequel story for the series, set in 1999, you'll see that my writing style is FAR different (and much evolved and improved) than it used to be, and my storyline is more professional and it's the same Science-Fantasy genre I'm writing here with this story, but more realistic. _

_Anyhow… this is how I have fun, y'know? Editorial is something I should do but… I don't do it for this story because this story has always been my way of just writing, writing, writing, writing, writing and then posting. I don't even plan the story out like I do with my original series of stories. I just write to write. It's calming, y'know? Anyhow… thanks again for reading if you've read this far. _

_See you in Act 2, HELL. _

_Or, if I'm lucky, I'll see you on FictionPress. Also, you can look me up on Facebook! Facebook dot com, forward slash, KITKARAMAK. _

_I'm currently at 500 fans / likes. I could really use your help to increase my number because publishers are all about numbers. And with your help, I'll come that much closer to fulfilling my pipedream of becoming a successful writer! _

_Take care!_

_-Kit _

August 30 2013, 11:21pm


	18. Chapter 18: Revenge of the Belmonts

Rise of the Belmonts

**Yoko Belnades paced** in front of the alter with an archaic tome wrapped in human flesh. She flipped to the next page then back to the last. After over an hour of reading, she closed the book and turned to face the entire group. Julius, Justus, her fiancé John Hammer, as well as Alucard, Larua and Vampira, the Turkish Prime Minister, Soma, Sinopa Crevan the five-tail kitsune, and Giakanokus – a hybrid familiar fairy who looked more like a Visual Kei band member, or some sort of Japanese goth.

No one spoke. Yoko placed the book on the alter and folded her arms. "The incantation is legitimate. This man, Zobek…_Death_ if that's what you all call him now…should be able to use these spells to bring the Belmont ancestors before Julius. All of them. And it will be a challenge. And it will be hard on Julius' body, but with that extra energy, the other spell to make him young again… that _will_ work. However, not all of us can go over. This gate will only allow so many through before it has to recharge. Recharging takes a long time. There's enough power for a number of us to go over and come back. But if too many go, then not enough can come back."

Yoko turned to the Turkish Prime Minister. "You, sir, should go home. You have a mess to clean up and you'll need to make sure you can extract us from the castle when we return. Else we'll be trapped inside from the fallout. It will take money. We'll need detox showers, tents, scientists in hazmat suits… the works. You'll need bulldozers to shove irradiated dirt from the main entrance, and you'll need to make a deep dirt barrier to give us a clear pathway out. So you can't go. Soma, here, will help you get home by showing you how he got here. You'll wind up half-way across Romania, near Poinari."

"I understand," he said in a respectful tone.

Yoko turned to Soma and Justus. "You two will need to watch Julius while he is under. I'm not saying I don't trust the others, but it's better safe than sorry. We need to keep each other honest, here." She turned to Laura, Vampira, and Alucard. "All three of you are important. Laura will keep Vampira immune from damage. Alucard, this is your mission, so you have to go. But there isn't enough energy to get all of us back. So Hammer cannot go. I cannot go. Giakanokus and Sinopa cannot go. It has to be a small group. I'm sorry. Else we'll be stranded there."

"Who exactly is going?" asked Soma from behind.

She offered her friend a soft smile. "You. Justus, Julius, Alucard, Vampira and Laura. However, that's technically still two too many. So there is a spell we can do that will combine Vampira and Laura into one body. The effect is temporary but it lasts a surprisingly long time. Three months. There's a reversal spell for when you get back, because I doubt you'll be gone that long. But you have to come home before then, else one of you will be stranded. But the spell will keep Vampira's invincibility intact. As an added bonus, she will now be able to protect one another person at her choosing. So consider her a valuable member for one person at a time. You'll need her for whoever goes up against Satan if it comes to that."

Yoko turned to Julius and said, "I will make sure everyone leaves Castlevania alive. Alucard and the others need you and your nephew in this battle, and will need you both again in two and a half decades. So they won't stab you in the back. They can't. Lucifer couldn't beat Dracula and Dracula couldn't beat you, Julius. So you are important. And Death referred to your nephew as the 'Claws of Fate.' So let's hope that this truce holds."

She turned back to Justus. "Have you finished your errand?"

"I have. Ortega has been freed from the castle. Scylla made me feel uncomfortable again. And I'm ready to go."

She smiled. "Alright, well… the five of you _must_ make it home to fight again else the world will end in 2060." She turned to Soma Cruz and hugged him. "I will keep an eye on Mina until your return. I promise."

"Thank you, Yoko. It makes me feel better to know she'll be safe." Soma reached over to Hammer and shook his hand. "Nothing to sell me before I go?"

John grinned. "Nothing new that will help you over there. And remember, Hell is full of conmen. Don't buy until you shop around."

"I hear you, man." Soma and John exchanged a brief hug.

Yoko cleared her throat and turned to Julius. "Okay, Mr. Belmont. Julius… it's time. While you're under, the rest of us will leave. We're going to use Soma's method of entry by leaving through the main chamber, upstairs. Stay safe. Look me up when you return so I can discharge all their souls back out of your body. They deserve to go back to Heaven and you will want your singular identity back again, trust me. Just remember, they're all as damage as you. Your PTSD might get worse. Try and hold it together."

"I'll do my best," said Julius with a firm nod. "We Belmonts are a disciplined lot."

"Yes, but you all suffered from poor social skills, too. Just keep your chin up."

"I'm stoic, from a long line of stoic people. We value work ethic, honesty and integrity above all else. We have a code of honor so that we don't become like Gabriel." He turned to Soma and Alucard, speaking to neither in general. "No offense." He turned back to Yoko. "Listen, whatever happens… happens. I'll handle it. But you'll be gone by the time I wake up, so I won't have help if things get bad. This is my burden and I'll handle it."

"Very well." She turned back to Hammer, the Prime Minister, and the two spirit familiars. "Let's get going then."

"Let's get started, Mister Belmont." The voice came from a man that seemingly stepped from the shadows. Zobek nodded to the assembled group. "It is comforting to see that you all take this situation quite serious. I trusted only Gabriel to handle this situation. And now that he's gone, I'll have to settle on those of you who he has forged in the heat of battle, or forged in hatred and fear. Are you all ready to begin?"

Alucard folded his arms. "And just what are _we_ doing while you do this incantation with Julius Belmont?"

"Angels do _not_ allow souls to be ripped from Heaven. Not without a fight. You'll be fighting lower-angels from Heaven's army."

Everyone froze. Yoko swallowed. "You didn't say we'd be fighting Heaven! What the hell? Is this some sort of manipulation?"

"Witch of Belnades," said Zobek, "you need to consider it. How would fighting lesser-angels benefit me in any way? Perhaps God understands, but whoever is a General in Heaven is going to follow the rules… and they're going to fight to keep the souls of Heaven inside of Heaven. Those of you who aren't staying… leave now. The rest of you, prepare yourselves. Don't worry about the angels. When slain, they return to Heaven from where they spawned. Their wings will mend in time. So don't worry for them – fight for Mr. Belmont." He picked up the book that was sitting on the edge of the altar. "This isn't going to be an easy fight. But it will be a good practice run for what will be ahead of you."

Hammer put his hand on Yoko's hip then nodded. "We should go. They won't ask nicely again."

Giakanokus, Sinopa, John and Yoko, and the Prime Minister of Turkey turned for the door as a group.

Laura and Vampira looked at one another. The vampiress cleared her throat and said, "Will our transformation hurt?"

"No. But it will be awkward if you've kept secrets from others. They will come out when you two are pulled apart. Also, you two, when combined, will be able to protect another at will. At this time, you'll need to protect Julius so the others can fight without having to defend him. So, we should bring the two of you together first. What shall I call you? Camilla? Carmilla? Millarca? Elizabeth?"

"Vampira."

Zobek eyed her then furrowed his brows. "A generic name that an eight year old could have thought up? Very well, then, Vampira. Sit upon the altar with your loved one."

Camilla narrowed her gaze at Death then sat upon the marble surface. She patted her knee and Laura hopped up then settled herself on her mistress' knee.

Silence.

Zobek put his palm on each of their forehead. After a moment they both fell back, along the altar in silence. The four eternal monks approached and began to chant. Zobek spoke over them, loud and clear, in an ancient language that far predated Latin. A glow emanated from the two bodies, causing everyone else in the room to avert their eyes. A moment later, Vampira and Laura were gone, replaced by a single body. A woman with the best of their facial features and the worst of their bodily features. A pretty face with an average body that had no curves or other desirable feminine features.

Not to say she was undesirable. She simply looked like a classy librarian. The clothes of both women lay on the altar, while the new woman sat adjacent to them, undressed.

Julius cleared his throat, looked back at the door that Yoko left through then frowned. "We'll need to find something to cover her body." He took off his longcoat and approached the female on the marble surface and draped it over her. "We'll need a name for you."

"Vampirella," she said in a soft tone.

Belmont rolled his eyes. "Enough with the stupid names that lack imagination. We're going to call you…" He trailed off then said, "something like… Jane Anne Cranstoun."

"Absolutely not," she sneered in reply.

Julius glared at her then turned to Zobek. "Can she drink and create other vampires in this form?"

"No. She's half Laura. She's half human, just as Adrian is half human. However she does retain her half of Dracula's essence."

Julius nodded slowly. "Miriam, then. Just as Miriam Blaylock couldn't create other vampires. Miri, if you will. Keep my coat until we find you proper clothing."

"Very well," she said, sliding off the altar. She slid her arms through the sleeves. The cuffs came to the tips of her fingers. She motioned to the marble slab. "Your turn, Julius."

He slid up onto the altar then nodded to Soma and Justus. "I'm trusting you two…I'm counting on you both."

"We won't let you down," said the werewolf before Soma could speak.

Zobek waved everyone into silence. "Let us begin, then."

He began an incantation and Julius' eyes rolled back into his head. He began breathing deeply, overcome by a heavy sleep.

Inside his mind, he stood inside an empty room…he recognized the small castle foyer belonging to the ancient Belmont clan. He looked around, alone. He began walking through the halls. Up ahead, he saw a man in a crusader's tunic with armor. "Excuse me?"

The man turned towards Julius and looked him over. Smooth, fine hair, a boyish face, but a soldier's eyes best defined him. "You may call me Baron Leon. What is thine name good sir?"

"Julius Belmont."

"Aye? We share a surname." Leon's eyes lowered, seeing whips on Julius' hips. "And an affinity for weaponry apparently."

"Indeed. This may seem difficult to understand but… I'm your descendant."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"You speak strangely, my good sir."

"Yeah. You've got a lot of personality."

"I cannae quite detect your subtle meaning. Is such a good thing, Mister Belmont?"

"Just…Julius will be fine. And I'm just…I'm surprised. Most Belmonts are quiet, and keep to themselves. You seem to have a little more personality than I thought."

"Ah. Quite so. Well, then, Julius. Where are we?"

"Home, apparently." The two walked together. They took stairs up to a top level where they heard the sound of fighting. Leon and Julius quickened their pace. By the time they made it into the master dining hall, the sounds of fighting were joined by laughter and playful banter.

Simon and Trevor faced off against one another, testing their skills with brilliant smiles. Sitting on the side with a serious gaze, Christopher and Juste had their arms folded.

A man approached the two and motioned to the group. "Hello, gentlemen. I am Desmond. Over on the facing wall are my sisters, Zoe and Dolores. And over there is Sid, Civil, Lias, Sonia, Raymond Andrews-Belmont, another Christopher, Christophe… or Christof maybe, another Simon, Richter, Kokoro, Sherry, Kresnik Werner-Belmont, Soleiyu and his father, also named Christopher, and Gaiden is on the far end. Oh, and another Simon."

Desmond pointed to the far wall. "That's Juste, another Christopher, and Reinhardt Schneider-Belmont and his father, Michael-Gelhart. And across the way, on the east wall, we have…"

"That will be enough. Thank you, young man." Julius walked past Desmond, immediately recognizing the last Simon – a young movie star who played in a Dracula-themed movie. He also recognized that man's son, Victor.

The oldest looking one of the group, Julius walked along the wall and approached Victor. He lowered to one knee and offered a weak smile. "Dad."

Victor's eyes widened then he reached up and put his hands on Julius' face. "Jules? Dear me, look at you. You've grown up. I thought when I died in 1999, that I would see you in Heaven shortly after. Why is the entire family here?"

"It's a spell from Death. I'm working with him to fight Hell, because that… that's what's next, now that Dracula is gone forever. Dad, I never got the chance to say goodbye. I…"

"It's okay. It's incredible to see you now. Why are we in the old family castle?"

"I'm unsure. But it seems we have more Christopher and Simons' than our family knows what to do with. And to think you almost named me Trevor."

Vincent cracked a hint of a smile. "Your mother told you that, huh? Good God, Julius. Let me look at you. I can't believe you've died. What happened?"

"Dad. I'm not dead. I'm the host of this… gala. And I'll be absorbing several souls to take with me into battle against Dracula's apparent enemy, Lucifer. I'll need the strength of the strongest of our kind in order to survive what stands ahead. We all know that Richter will be coming. Trevor, and the first Simon. Are a possibility. But I'd also like to take you."

"Julius, if what you say is true…that has a lot of strange implications, as we're all dead. You'd be taking us from Heaven. Furthermore, why take me? I died. My father was a movie star, who never trained me the way I trained you. That's why I died and you lived. The Morris clan cadet, the Schneider cadet branch, the Graves' family… they all have better and stronger ineradicable members than myself."

"You and your vocabulary," said Julius with a sad smile of remembrance. "You referred to kissing women as 'osculate.' I cannot believe I'd forgotten your fancy words."

"Ah, yes. My father was a movie star, son. I learned my vernacular causerie growing up in that world. So if you're not dead, but you're here with all of us… where are you in the real world?"

"On a marble slab in Castlevania. I'm with one of Simon's illegitimate sons, another side effect of his movie star life. The boy's father was also named Simon. But I don't see him here. I fear his soul may have been stranded in the Anti-Castle. But he's of Cristofor's branch, and has become a werewolf. His name is Justus and he's impressive."

"I see. Well. If you can only take a handful of us… then fight to know who is the strongest."

Julius nodded.

The room grew silent and Trevor shook hands with Simon I, in the center of the room. Julius nodded to Richter, on a nearby bench, then turned back to Trevor and Simon I. "Gentlemen. Trevor, Simon… you've gone up against Dracula twice. First to defeat him, and then you aided Hector to defeat him again. Simon the first, you've defeated him twice. And, of course, Richter… who defeated Dracula, then aided Alucard in defeating Dracula again, then was pressed as a memory into the whip, who was still mighty when John, Quincy and Jonny Morris got their hands on it. You tested future whip holders to ensure that they would be worthy. And I fought your memory imprint when I received it from Jonathan, in 1998, on my 18th birthday. You're all impressive and I'm honored to be amongst you all."

"We're honored to be amongst you," said Trevor. "You defeated Dracula once and for all. Forever. And he did not become reincarnated as an evil person. You even guided the new soul, Soma, to stay good and honorable. You are the greatest of us all."

"Thank you, sir."

"No," said Trevor with a smile. "Thank _you_. Can I ask you a question? How is Adrian? I think he called himself Alucard…"

"He's… well. He's actually in the room with my body right now."

Trevor nodded. "He's a better man than people have given him credit for."

"I see."

Trevor motioned to Sonia. "That's my mother. One of the few of us, besides Christopher," he said, nodding to one of the many Christopher's in the room, "Who went after Dracula out of duty, and not because a girl had been captured."

Most of the people in the room chuckled. Trevor grinned, then added, "We Belmonts' have a weakness for a pretty face, don't we? So you defeated Dracula once and for all. Did he coax you in with a pretty face?"

"Actually, no." Julius, surprised that Trevor seemed so friendly, folded his arms and said, "She was captured by Dracula. But I didn't know it at the time. Times were different in 1999. Cellphones weren't popular yet, so it's not like she was a ring away. Anyhow, she was a very liberal and strong-minded woman. I was very conservative in my values. I'd hold the door for her at the local Wal-Mart. She would walk through the adjacent automatic doors. I'd hold the car door for her. She would take the keys from me and go around to the driver's side. So when Dracula captured her from her college dorm room, she escaped. She slew fourteen monsters on the way out without any formal training. Then she found her way back to me and told me what happened. That's when I started amassing forces. With my father's help, we charged in and finished the job. Unfortunately…" he glanced over at his father and frowned then said, "I was the only one to walk out of there. And I didn't remember anything after that. People called me 'Jay.' That was it. Until thirty-five years later, when it all came back to me."

"Impressive story, Julius. What is… a cellphone?"

Simon asked, "What's a Wal mart?"

"What's an automatic door? Is witchcraft the norm in the modern day?"

Richter looked to his fellow Belmonts' then asked, "What's a car…door? And women go to college now? That's fantastic news. Maria was educated and it made a world of difference."

Vincent grinned. "Trisha-Janelle was a very headstrong girl. That reminds me, Julius, how many grandkids do I have?"

"She's married to someone else. She thought I died. I didn't find her again until December of 2035. She's the first person I looked up after I got out of Castlevania again. She called me a year later when she saw on the news that it came back yet again. She's doing well. Her oldest daughter is twenty-two, now. She's fresh out of college and put her degree first. Beautiful girl, too. Reminds me a lot of her mother. Boy if I was young again."

"That's a shame," Vincent said with a frown.

Julius shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe I will be young again. There's a lot of weird talk and I didn't believe any of it. But now I'm here with all of you. So maybe…anything is possible, right?" A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Vincent gave his son a pat on the forearm. "Continuing the line is very important. If _my_ father," he paused and glanced over at one of the Simons, "wasn't so busy being a movie star, then the Morris family wouldn't have had to pick up our slack. That whip made a lot of Morris family members downright ill over time. You should have seen Jonathan when he brought me the whip. He looked as though he was dying of cancer."

Julius folded his arms again. "Let's get started and see who is compatible with me. I need to do something or I'm going to be dwelling on what's going on out in the real world. I'd rather keep busy."

Kokoro approached him, looked him over with a faint smile then said, "You look good for sixty-six years old, big brother. Let me be the first to test myself against your abilities. I've always wondered."

"I'm sorry you're here. I'm sorry I wasn't around to protect you."

"That was never your fault, Jay. You were a good big brother. We actually thought you died after dispatching Dracula… or worse, that you were trapped in the eclipse with the castle. I thought that all the way up until I arrived in Heaven and you weren't among the dead or reincarnated."

"How did you die, anyway?"

"I didn't have my big brother to protect me. It happened about twelve years ago. I supposed you were off wandering the world, looking for answers. So, why don't you show me what you've learned during your time on earth?" She smirked. "As they said in the olden days… have at thee."

X

* * *

X

_Meanwhile…  
Out in the 'real world'…_

**"Something doesn't seem right about doing this."** Justus put his foot up on the body of a blue creature whose body radiated with soft light and no other distinguishable traits. He gave it a shove, pushing the body off of his claws. It slumped onto its back with a thud, wings splayed out behind it. No feathers, only light.

"Why don't they appear like they do in art and stuff?"

Soma twirled the sword given to him then gazed along its blade. "This sword is amazing. What did they call it again? And, to answer your question, I don't know."

"Something like '_Crissaegrim_.' Yeah. It's pretty amazing. Look, I'm not going to lie, here; killing angels is really bothering me."

"Justus, I'm told they're just soldiers in Heaven's army. They fight whoever they're told to fight. Let them die an honorable death or…whatever. They come back in the afterlife, right? So they probably wake up wherever their day started, this morning."

"Soma, life isn't a video game! They don't just 're-spawn' at their home base or whatever!"

"I don't know what else to say, Justus. Let's just get ready for the next wave." Cruz withdrew a cloth square and wiped down the sword. He slid it into a sheath then withdrew the second one from his other hip. "They called this one the 'Valmanway. They look almost identical." He gave it a swirl with his right hand and put the oiled cloth away with his left. "For all I know, we're fighting the same handful of angels over and over and they just keep coming back. Let's hope that's not the case."

Justus opened and closed his claws a few times. "Why?"

"Because before long they'd learn how we fight then best us. That's what happens when you have experience in battle. You learn how your enemy fights, then you defeat them. How're you holding up?"

"Just peachy, Soma. This is getting tiring. How many waves have we fought so far? Five? Six?"

"That last one was number seven, actually." Soma Crus gave the Valmanway sword another twirl then glanced back to the hallway. He heard a noise coming from around the corner. "Get ready. Here comes the eighth wave. I think I heard that sixes are the number of the beast, seven is the number of righteousness and eight is the number of Heaven. So I expect the eighth wave to be…heavenly difficult. Or something."

"You're looking into this nonsense way too deeply."

"Justus, I've lived through this craziness twice. It becomes your life."

A flood of angelic warriors gushed into the room, weapons drawn.

Justus dove at the first one thorough the door and buried both claws into the being's upper torso. He was met with a shield in the face from another angel, knocking him to the floor. He slid to a halt then shouted back towards Soma, fully engaged with two other angels. "This really sucks!"

"Yeah, I know! I wonder how much longer it's going to be for your uncle to come out of his trans? And I wonder why they left us alone to fight this things!"

Justus ducked the swing of another angel and pounced on the one he'd already attacked moments ago. The angelic warrior fell back, planted his foot into Justus' torso then kicked him clear across the room.

The werewolf slammed into a wall then stood up gingerly. "They don't mess around, do they?"

"Afraid not." Soma swung his sword repeatedly, slicing and dicing at his attackers. "How come things never go exactly according to plan?"

"I don't know," Justus said, diving at the next being of pure illumination. "Seems straight forward to me!" He ended on a grunt, making impact at the end of his dive. Both he and the being went to the floor, wrestling about. "They should have kicked our asses, why aren't they?!"

Soma grunted, slashed, kicked then grunted again between two attackers. "They're the lowest soldiers on the line. You go up against one of those big-winged guys that tower over us… you can forget about it. Arch-Angels are even more powerful than that!" He put a foot up on the chest of one then shoved and dashed back at the same time, getting out of range from an incoming attack.

"I hope they hurry up with my uncle! They're starting to get pretty hard! Getting Ortega's body out of here was a cakewalk by comparison!" Justus stole a quick glance back at the arched doorway leading to the cathedral with his uncle on the slab.

Justus turned his head back to his attacker just in time to receive a glowing foot to his chest. He launched up and came crashing down over the church pews. They didn't collapse like in action movies. He crawled into the aisle, gasping for breath.

Soma saw that Justus had the air knocked out of him, and jumped over his attackers to slash at the being that approached the werewolf lying on the ground. He brought his sword down from above and split the angelic form into two halves. The being withered away but instead of disappearing, it condensed into an orb that slammed into Soma and knocked him backwards. He struck the arched doorway then gasped.

Justus got to one knee, still trying to catch his breath. All at once the room lit up with blinding light. All the angels were thrown backwards. The bright light struck a field around the altar. The brilliant incandescence dissipated; no angels remained. Soma dropped to his knees, panting. He put the point of his sword against the ground and leaned against the handle.

The werewolf crawled over to him, finally able to breathe in. He put a large paw on Soma's shoulder and, in a coarse voice, asked, "What just happened?"

"I… I absorbed the soul of an angel. And I used his power. I… I figured of black magic works against evil people, that white magic should work against good ones. And it did… and… it was draining."

They both looked back at Julius and the monks with a frown. Belmont remained silent, stuck in his trance.

"What's taking so long," Justus asked. He leaned back against the side of a pew.

"I don't know," Soma replied with a frown. "But I wish it would hurry up."

X

* * *

X

**Julius Belmont** landed on his feet then turned about. His ancestors sat about the small arena, cheering and clapping. Face to face with Richter, he saw the man drop into a slide then suddenly vault up feet first.

Julius dashed through him, intangible for a brief moment. He reappeared on the other side of Richter, just in time to grab the blue and white collar of his armored coat. Julius pivoted on his heel, Richter came to a halt, snatched from midair, and then the Middle Age fighter went across the floor, flung by his descendant.

Richter got to his feet. "You'll have to teach me that one."

"It's called Omnia Vanitas," said Jay with a huff to catch his breath. "You'll have to teach me that slide-vaulting thing."

"Perhaps you'll learn it soon enough _through_ me instead of _from_ me. But then you'll have my hot-headed temperament, too. Can you handle that? I'm not as disciplined as other Belmonts."

"I've heard you can take that hot-headedness and crush a weapon item and use it in ways that others of our kind could never do."

"I like to call it 'crash,' not 'crush,' but yes. I squeeze it in my hand. Why throw a bottle of Holy Water at a foe when I can rain it down on the room by splashing it to create a holy hydro storm, yes? This is nothing compared to Juste. His ability to dash about makes him the fastest of us, even more than me. And his mother, a Belnades, allowed him to use magic books and pair the magic with other items. You should see the shield he can create for himself with the cross boomerang. Most impressive."

Julius fixed his coat. "I could never understand why any of you carried more than one item at a time. My coat is large and has generous pockets. I carry all the items I'll ever need at any one given time. To have your abilities added to my own, we would make an impressive force."

"Aye," said Simon the First from the left. "And what else will you take? Chris's resolve as he showed when freeing his son, Soleiyu? Or perhaps Trevor's immense courage and healing personality? My endurance to survive through a curse beyond compare? Or perhaps your father's love?"

Julius tugged at his brownish beard. "It's difficult to choose."

Simon continued as the voice of reason. "Perhaps you should choose against us based on our flaws."

Julius cracked a thin smile. "I'm the oldest of you all to fight, and the only one who hasn't yet found true love. Seems I'm the most flawed."

"Aye," said Richter, dusting himself off. "But I'm the most hot-headed and likely to have my temper manipulated in Hell. Christopher and Trevor are the slowest of the group. Simon the First is the most balanced of the group and he has an excellent eye and steady hand. He can latch onto a fist-sized ring and swing across it with ease."

"I nearly died that way," Julius said with a smirk, thinking back to earlier when he met Sinopa after nearly falling into the pit of spikes. "I was doing it two whips at a time and they couldn't hold my weight."

"You may be running out of time," said Trevor. "You'll need to choose soon, young man."

Julius nodded towards Trevor. "Your personality might be…"

Trevor held his hand up. "I come off as friendly at times like this. But on the battlefield, you'll find that I also have a bit of a hot head. I come off as somewhat rude. Some call me confident, but you don't want my pride, young man. I'm solemn and cautious and don't make decisions very quickly. I let myself become duped and nearly died, only to be saved by a witch of all people. And then I married one. I'm not your best choice."

Julius nodded. "Very well." He turned to Simon. "I'll need your balance to help with Richter's short temper."

Simon grinned. "I'm like you, Julius. I fought Dracula out of honor and because it was my legacy, not because of a woman. I fought him twice, while wounded, and always maintain a positive frame of mind. I would be honored to join you on your crusade."

"Very well." Julius upnodded to Christopher, father of Soleiyu. "You, as well, please."

"I see you are combining a collection of Belmonts who have all gone up against Dracula and, or, Castlevania on multiple occasions."

"Yes. Belmonts who can get the job done repeatedly, against all odds."

Julius looked to Richter then to Juste. "Juste, you'd be the only one who hasn't fought Dracula more than once. But your mastery of spells will come in handy. I need you more than I need Trevor, despite the fact he's been in-line with fighting and surviving against Castlevania multiple times." Julius glanced back at Trevor, adding, "No offense."

"None taken. I'm the one who suggested you take someone other than me."

"Very well." He turned back to Juste and said, "Will you come?"

"I suggest Trevor," said Juste in a firm voice. "My spells come from spellbooks. You will not find such in Hell, just lying around. Hell has no need for a library. Unless, of course, you bring some with you when you crossover to Hell. At which point, I can help with your speed and the ability to defend yourself and your loved ones."

Trevor rubbed his chin. "Yes, but, Julius… you're working with a large group of people are you not? I was able to make an alliance with Hector, the Devil Forgemaster, a witch of the Belnades family, and Alucard, early on when he was still on the metaphorical fence regarding his role in life against his father."

Julius rubbed his chin again. "You both make good points why I should choose you and why I should not choose you."

"Juste, I might not be a snappy dresser like you," Trevor trailed off over a round of chuckles from about the area. "So…Shall we fight," asked Trevor, "to determine who is worthy between us?"

"A fine idea!" said Desmond. "We should see who, between them, is more worthy to win. Juste, with his powerful spells, and fast dash ability to elude attacks…and his flamboyant fashion…" Again, the assembled Belmonts chuckled amongst themselves. "Or! Trevor! Courageous! Powerful, opportunistic and intelligent and with the personality to make, and to work with various allies from different walks of life. That's a very important trait considering you're going to work with a group of allies."

"Seems it will boil down to the battle between book smarts and street smarts." Julius settled down adjacent to his father, Victor. "I can choose only five. I've chosen my father. I've chosen Simon I, Richter, Christopher – father of Soleiyu. This last choice is not one I can make on my own."

Desmond waved to the others. "Alright! Trevor and Juste! Let the battle begin!"

X

* * *

X

**A/N:**_ YOU CHOOSE! Juste from Harmony of Dissonance, or Trevor from __Curse of Darkness__ and __Dracula's Curse__. _

_As you can see, I'm not completely going with the Lords of Shadow reboot. I'm using original Trevor and Simon, not the "Trevor is Alucard, Simon is the angry child barbarian," characters used by MercurySteam. But I DID make Vincent into Julius' father. _

_Castlevania has had too many reboots to "begin the series." Sonia, then Leon, then Gabriel. And things get a little weirder with each re-write iteration. And now it's hard to choose which direction to go, right? GET IT TOGETHER IGA! CHOOSE! Lol, you're making my job harder!_

_OKAY! This is the VERY LAST TIME I'm going to write an all 'information / conversation' based chapter. Now they're all going to Hell to fight for their lives. There's going to be a lot less conversing from here on out. SO TELL ME… WHO WILL JULIUS HAVE WITH HIM IN THE NEXT CHAPTER?! __**TREVOR OR JUSTE**__?! I leave the decision to you!_

_And tell me why you've chosen Trevor or Juste to win so I can say so in the story!_

_-K_


End file.
